


Starbursts

by carpemermaid



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Character Study, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Flirting, Future Fic, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Injuries, POV Oikawa Tooru, Pining, Rating May Change, Road Trips, Romance, Roommates, Social Media, Stargazing, Volleyball, Volleyball Dorks in Love, brief mention of past Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, is it even a haikyuu fic if no one thirsts for Daichi's thighs?, physical intimacy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-01 15:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15776784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpemermaid/pseuds/carpemermaid
Summary: A chance meeting during a rainstorm is just the beginning for two star paths that seem fated to cross again and again. Never let it be said that Oikawa Tooru doesn’t like to chase after the stars.





	1. After School

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooo new fandom! Look at HQ, getting me out of writer's block with a cute af ship, woohoo! I'm having a blast working on this for Oisuga Week 2018! I've outlined it so it'll be one fic that uses a prompt from each day and I'm working hard to get caught up since I'm starting a few days late. Big thanks to the sprint channel in the HQ!! 18+ discord for getting me through this first chapter, y'all are lovely! Also heads up, this is likely to jump to at least an M rating if not an E in later chapters.
> 
> This is unbeta'd at the moment, but do feel free to shoot me a message on [Tumblr](http://birbsonthecourt.tumblr.com) or Discord if you catch a mistake. This is also a completely new fandom/set of characters/ship dynamic for me so I apologize if anything about them seems off!

Tooru focuses on the sounds surrounding him while he runs along the trail in the park near his town—birds chirping, the breeze blowing tree branches side to side, and the harsh sound of his breath as he pushes himself further. It’s a habit ingrained into him from years of team practices at this point. He would feel odd if he didn’t go for a run; his fingers twitched with the excess energy he was used to burning off. So instead of laying in bed with his laptop propped on his stomach while he surfed believer forums and read pages of real encounter stories, he’d dragged himself out of bed, pulled on his trainers, and left the comfort of aircon to face the heat of the day.

The humidity is high enough to make him struggle for each breath and there’s sweat dripping down the back of his neck. The grass smells fresh and sweet and when the breeze blows he catches hints of the summer wildflowers still in bloom.

He knows he could take it easy, now that he’s no longer the captain of his high school team, but Tooru shoves that thought aside.

There’s no time to rest if he plans to join the team at the university he’s enrolled in.

He rounds the bend where the trees break away to an open, grassy field on either side of the trail. He could have just run his usual trails through town. Hell, he could have gone to the Aoba Johsai gym to run laps. Only, Tooru didn’t want to see his teammates running circuits around the court without him. He wasn’t ready to face seeing them with time on their clocks still, time to work harder together, to get better, to train for another re-match against Shiratorizawa. Not without him to lead them to victory.

Tooru grits his teeth together and blinks away the bitter burn in his eyes. He ducks his head to wipe his face against his arm without breaking his speed. _Come on, Oikawa_ , he thinks. _You graduated. Seijoh’s not your team anymore. Move on._

Tooru breathes out harshly and pushes himself harder, picking up his pace from a steady jog into something more challenging to maintain. He throws off his breathing pattern to laugh at himself. He knows he can’t outrun the thoughts slamming into him with each echoing slap of his trainers against the pavement, but who is he if he doesn’t try.

He can’t stop; not now. Not after he told that bastard Ushiwaka that he’s just getting started. He’s not done yet.

The second he stops he knows he’ll be left in the dust. Tooru will be stuck in the mud watching annoying little shits like Tobio-chan surpass him with ease. He can see the look they’ll give him as he tries to catch up, smug and knowing while they remain out of his reach, taunting him while he’s left behind in the dust. Tooru squeezes his eyes closed and shakes his head. Iwaizumi would be so disappointed to see him still panicking over his dream being stolen away by more naturally gifted players.

Tooru’s brows pinch together. It won’t matter, whatever Iwa-chan would say. He chose a different university than the one Tooru enrolled in after being accepted. They are both bound for Tokyo schools, but every time Tooru thinks about the prospect of no longer having his best friend by his side his chest burns. He’s played on the same team with Iwa-chan as his ally for so long that it unsettles him to think about facing off against him. Iwaizumi started assuring him regularly that being on different teams doesn’t mean they’ll lose their friendship. Tooru will hold him to that.

The corner of his mouth quirks up as his feet pound against the pavement. There is a thrill that zings through Tooru when he thinks about the university league. New challenges and new plays for his mind to pick apart until he can trounce the team on the other side of the net have Tooru’s mind whirring. It’s a whole new set of puzzles for him to tinker with and solve.

It’s also one step closer to the pro league.

Tooru breaks into a predatory grin as he mentally flips through the other university teams that he’ll be playing, analyzing and calculating what he knows about their current lineups and stats. He’s watched every match video from the last two seasons he could get his hands on for the team he plans to join at Chuo. He’s already started to practice how high the wing spikers like their sets to be for the optimal attack. Tooru wants to be as prepared as possible to give himself a strong chance at being an asset to the team as soon as he joins. He doesn’t want to struggle from the bottom rung as a first year. He wants, more than anything, to join the team and be seen like Kageyama is—a first year that has the potential to turn the tide for his team.

Tooru nods to himself with determination. No more moping in his bedroom, not if he wants to keep playing.

A sudden clap of thunder startles him out of his thoughts and nearly causes him to trip over his own feet when he jumps. Tooru looks up and realizes that he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice storm clouds creeping across the afternoon sky, which now looks dark and ominous with the impending rain. He slows his run and glances around. There’s barely anyone in that section of the park from what he can see. There’s a bright flash from lightning quickly followed by another boom of thunder and then the sky opens up. It goes from scattered drops of rain to a steady downpour in a matter of seconds.

“Hah!” Tooru holds up a hand over his eyes as cover, a habit from wearing his glasses that he can never kick, even when he’s got his contact lenses in.

He huffs and breaks into a sprint as the rain pelts down harder in cold, heavy drops that quickly begin to soak through his t-shirt and slide down his neck. For a minute he’s just running without any strategy or sense of direction, natural instinct making him flee the rain. He pushes his damp bangs back with an agitated gesture and follows after a runner that crosses the trail in front of him where the park loop intersects. Tooru sees that the runner is heading for the building ahead on the path, one that has an overhang. Tooru follows him.

He catches up but can’t quite pass the runner, and Tooru pulls on his energy reserves to give himself one last burst of speed to win the race for safe haven from the rain. He reaches the building first and lets out a whoop of success, slapping his palm against the brick wall before panting and resting his hands on his thighs.

“I win!” he announces, leaning over to catch his breath. His knee twinges in protest to let him know it’s there and it doesn’t appreciate unplanned sprints. Tooru grimaces and leans back against the building to take some of his weight off it.

His impromptu running partner huffs out an amused, breathy laugh and straightens up from where he was leaning heavily on his own legs. His white t-shirt—a pretty poor choice for a rain storm, Tooru notes, totally ignoring the fact that he’s equally out of luck with his NASA logo shirt—is damp around the shoulders with wet spots speckled down the back to the hem from the rain.

“I wasn’t aware we were racing,” he says mildly as he turns to face Tooru. His thick, grey eyebrows shoot up into a teasing expression. “It doesn’t count if you’re the only one who knows it’s a competition. Some might even call it cheating.”

Tooru jolts with recognition, a nickname jumping to the tip of his tongue. He nearly blurts it in surprise, but manages to hold himself back at the last second. Information scrolls through his mind like a marquee—another automatic habit he’s drilled into himself from countless nights spent studying his opponents. _Karasuno’s vice-captain. Setter. Sugawara-something. Refreshing-kun._ His eyes flick to where _Karasuno High School_ is printed in the upper corner of the t-shirt. Tooru blinks.

“Um,” he says for lack of a better response. His brain catches up a second too late. He points at Sugawara accusingly. “Hang on—cheating? I didn’t cheat!”

“Okay,” Sugawara says evenly. He eyes Tooru up and down with a quick glance.

Sugawara uses the hem of his shirt to wipe his face and keeps one eye on him. Tooru realizes he must be surprised, too, even if he remains as calm as he is on the court. Sugawara’s eyes dart out at the park grounds when another flash of lightning streaks across the sky in the distance. There’s a beat or two before there’s a heavy rumble of thunder in its wake. Tooru knows he took the bus to get to this park from his town and wonders why Sugawara would be so far from his own town. Karasuno’s not exactly nearby. They’re both stuck without anywhere to go for shelter from the rain, so he supposes they’ll both wait it out.

Sugawara looks up at the clouds and watches the rain fall hard enough to start a small waterfall from the corner of the roof keeping them dry, and Tooru watches Sugawara. Looking at him, Karasuno’s win in the Spring High semifinals rushes through Tooru again, the searing crush of defeat as sharp and fresh as it was when that final deciding point was scored. He swallows to rid himself of the acrid taste that fills his mouth. _That’s over now_ , he reminds himself. They’ve both graduated from high school, after all. They’re not…rivals anymore.

Still, Sugawara doesn’t exactly look relaxed and happy to be stuck with Tooru in a thunderstorm. For as calm as he tries to appear, Tooru can see the tense set of his shoulders and the way his hands clench into fists. He looks like a rabbit about to dart away from a fox. Tooru can’t turn off the part of his brain that tries to read whether Sugawara’s just going to take his chances with the rain or wait it out with Tooru under the safety of the overhang.

Tooru gives it a few moments to see what Sugawara will end up doing, paying close attention to the way he shifts his weight and looks once more from the rain to the trail and appears to mentally calculate the distance versus the benefit of sprinting the entire length of the park to the nearest bus stop. It takes Sugawara so long to make a move that Tooru has to tease him for it.

“I thought you were the nice one, Refreshing-kun. Ignoring people is impolite,” Tooru says in a sing-song, bright tone full of false cheer.

The Iwa-chan in his mind that acts as his conscience is rubbing his temples with his fingers and growling under his breath. Sugawara makes a face at the nickname Tooru chose for him. Tooru grins wider and tilts his head. Sugawara glances out at the running trail once more, chewing absently on his lip and Tooru can’t resist going for the volley again.

“Is it really worth it to chance running through the rain rather than spending a few minutes with your former school rival? You’ll catch a cold running through that.” Tooru hums over-dramatically and puts on a pouty expression that always drives Iwa-chan crazy. Sugawara blinks at him and runs a hand through his hair, sending droplets flying out. Tooru’s attention dips down the line of his neck to the breadth of his shoulders and smirks, switching tactics. He slouches back against the brick wall he’s leaning against and drags his teeth over his bottom lip, voice dropping into something huskier that he reserves for his fangirls. “I dare you to go back out there. That white shirt of yours isn’t quite see-through just yet.”

Sugawara looks suitably abashed, his gaze averted and his ears going a lovely shade of pink. Tooru grins in self-satisfied triumph. _Nice kill, Tooru_. He’s about to push it for another point in his favor and remark on what an amazing setter he is, one Sugawara could surely learn a thing or two from, only to cut himself off when Sugawara suddenly bows to him.

“I’m sorry, Oikawa-san,” Sugawara says sincerely, sucking all the fun out of Tooru’s teasing. “You took me by surprise, that’s all. I didn’t expect to see you again after our last match, much less a chance meeting here.”

Sugawara straightens and offers him a friendly smile that throws Tooru off. He stares at Sugawara. Tooru finds him to be predictable, and yet every time he manages to throw Tooru off his game anyway.

Wind makes the rain shift, forcing Sugawara to retreat further into their hiding spot if he doesn’t want his shoes and ankles to be drenched. He moves to stand beside Tooru, leaning back against the wall. The breeze makes them both shiver, their bodies still overheated from exercise and their clothes damp from the rain. Tooru finds himself momentarily transfixed on seeing Sugawara this close without a net between them. He drinks in the messy tousle of his damp hair—there’s a lock matted against his forehead that Tooru really wants to reach out and fix for him—studies how bright and warm his eyes are, the shape of his lips, and the curve of his jaw. Tooru is struck by the thought that Sugawara is going to age into a beautiful, striking man and the realization that he’s standing so close to him makes his mouth go a little dry. Tooru bites down on the inside of his cheek and then puffs both of them out like balloons. If he’s not careful, he’ll leave the safety of this alcove with a new crush because he’s a sappy romantic that falls in love too easily. That can’t happen, though. He won’t let it. He _refuses_ to be as charmed by Sugawara’s looks as that whole rotten team of crows. He taps the pads of his fingers against the brick wall to distract himself, pressing his fingers harder against the rough texture.

“So you graduated, then?” Sugawara asks, breaking Tooru out of his runaway thoughts.

Tooru clears his throat and nods. Okay, small talk. He can do small talk. He’s _the best_ at small talk. “Yeah—yes. No more team Seijoh.”

The smile Sugawara shoots him is full of way too much sympathy and understanding for Tooru’s taste and he grabs for the reins of their conversation before it tramples into uncomfortable territory. He’s in charge here and his plan is to find more cracks to poke at to get Sugawara talking so he doesn’t feel as exposed as that one smile made him feel.

“Anyway. High school is over so we shouldn’t hold ourselves back until we’re sick with nostalgia, right?” Tooru brushes away invisible lint from his shirt and traces the NASA logo on his t-shirt. “We have bright futures ahead of us.”

Sugawara hums in agreement. “You sound just like Daichi.”

“Karasuno’s captain?” Tooru asks, glancing over.

“Yeah. Well…it’s probably going to be Ennoshita now, I think.” Sugawara has a wistful expression on his face as he stares out at the park grounds. “It’s really odd to be finished. I feel like I’ve been through so much with Daichi and Asahi and the rest of my team.”

Tooru makes an exaggerated gagging sound and mutters, “Cheesy, wow.”

But he knows exactly what Sugawara means, even feels the sentiment strongly himself. Sugawara shoots him another look that Tooru meets challengingly; his eyes say they see right through Tooru’s antics and it makes him shift uncomfortably against the wall.

“Well I guess I’m just the sentimental type,” Sugawara says, shrugging. His shoulder bumps against Tooru’s. He wants to get Sugawara to tell him more about Karasuno, hungry for any information that could be useful about the team, but then Tooru chides himself because that’s irrational.

Their small talk peters out and only the sound of the rain drops falling heavily surrounds them for a few minutes. Tooru fishes his phone out of his pocket and fiddles with it, tapping in his passcode to unlock it. Sugawara waits a beat before slipping his own phone out. Tooru checks his Snapchat and email for new notifications before opening his camera application. He holds his phone up at an angle and takes a few selfies, making slightly different expressions that Iwa-chan would call his “pouty model look” with a disgusted tone. He decides this shirt looks good on him today and even though his hair looks like a wild mess from the humidity and the rain, he can get away with it if he makes a cute expression. He looks over at Sugawara and makes a spilt second decision.

“Come here,” Tooru says, reaching over to clamp a hand over Sugawara’s wrist and hauls him over. He bumps into Tooru’s side, nearly losing his balance, so Tooru snakes a hand around his waist to steady him. He holds his phone higher to get both of them in the frame. “Smile!”

Sugawara is warm and solid against his side and Tooru snaps photo after photo. Sugawara is stiff at first, but with a little goading and direction from Tooru he gives in and holds up a victory sign and grins at the phone camera with a big grin. Sugawara pats his shoulder when he steps away and Tooru ignores the way cold air licks up his side. He hums as he flicks through the set of photos they took and he picks one out to post on his Instagram feed.

He sticks his tongue out of the corner of his mouth while selecting a filter and types out a caption. It takes him a minute to come up with a good one and he grins when he figures it out. He hits the post button and hums a tune-less song, bouncing on his toes as it uploads. It pops up in his feed.

[Photo: Tooru and Sugawara pressed close together with the rain in the background. Sugawara is holding up a victory sign and looking over at Tooru, who is giving the camera low-lidded bedroom eyes and a smirk with his arm around Sugawara’s waist.]  
_Liked by **yo_yahaba** and 2 others_  
**@kingofthecastle** : Watch out, we’ll set our way into your hearts. [kissing heart emoji] [kissing heart emoji] #prettysettersquad #meetcute #seijoh #karasuno  
_3 minutes ago_

“Hey, we look pretty good together,” Tooru says, holding up his phone for Sugawara to see. “We’re like a matched set, or something.”

Sugawara leans over and peers at Tooru’s phone to read the caption he wrote. “I thought Iwaizumi-san was the other half of your matched set.” He flicks his gaze up to Tooru and all Tooru can think is that it should be illegal for a boy’s eyelashes to be that long, what the hell. Tooru tries to keep his composure while Sugawara naturally does everything to worm his way through Tooru’s mask without even making a conscious effort. Sugawara’s lips tug up into a lopsided smile. “Besides, hashtag pretty setter squad? You look like a soggy, drowned rat with your hair all wet like that.”

Tooru gasps and pulls his phone back against his chest, hiding the screen. Refreshing-kun bites back! He makes a big show of sulking, batting his best puppy dog eyes at Sugawara. “Mean! That was so mean, Refreshing-kun! I take back what I said about you being the nice one.”

Sugawara laughs and leans closer, nearly into Tooru’s space. Sugawara whispers conspiratorially with his hand cupped beside his mouth, like he’s divulging a big secret, “I never said that was correct, everyone just assumes that about me.”

“Well, then you shouldn’t tell me that. It’s like your secret weapon,” Tooru stage-whispers in reply.

It makes Sugawara smile and Tooru becomes very aware that his interest is sparked. He’s starting to have fun talking to Sugawara when he reveals that he won’t just roll over and take Tooru’s shit. He’s someone that might be able to give as good as he gets, and that excites Tooru. He pockets his phone and goes back on the offensive. He tests how far Sugawara will let him go by closing more of the distance between them, just shy of bumping their noses together. He holds Sugawara’s gaze while a thrill races through him. Sugawara holds his ground and stares back at Tooru like he’s not even fazed by his antics. Tooru makes a serious face and pretends to study Sugawara from up close, like he’s analyzing him for a better handle on how he plays. Sugawara gamely remains still, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Tooru thinks he can see the hint of a dimple and files that away for later investigation.

“Ah, yes I see,” he drawls, placing a hand over his chest. “I’m terribly sorry for my mistake. You aren’t the nice one at all, are you? You just let everyone believe that when secretly,” Tooru pauses and inches closer to murmur in Sugawara’s ear, “you’re the hot one.”

Sugawara snorts and reaches out to hold onto Tooru by the shoulders while he laughs. Tooru leans back to look at him and blinks. That usually worked to make a cute girl’s knees go weak, but here Sugawara is, laughing in the face of his suave tone.

“No wonder those girls all trail after you at matches, Oikawa-san,” Sugawara says through his laughter. God, Tooru thinks he’s got a gorgeous laugh. He sways marginally closer, like a leaf flipping over to bow to the sun. “You ever actually get anyone with smooth lines like that?”

“Well,” Tooru says, about to admit that it’s one of his most successful tactics. He squints at Sugawara. “Wait—are you saying you don’t believe me? Because…” he trails off for effect, eyeing Sugawara up and down. “Do you look in the mirror? Like, have you actually seen yourself?”

Sugawara shrugs easily. His ears are pink and Tooru zeroes in on that. _Aha_ , he thinks slyly. _You only want me to think you’re unaffected by my flirting._ He takes one of Sugawara’s hands and clasps it between both of his. “That…is tragic. Sure, your team’s captain had a great smile and amazing thighs; your ace had that whole mature look going on, but you— _you_ are obviously the looker of the third years from your team.”

“So, you think I’m cute, Oikawa-san?” Sugawara ducks his head and peers up at Tooru through his lashes once more. He’s playing dirty and Tooru has to scramble to keep pace with him. “Is that why I flustered you in matches where we faced off against one another?”

Tooru’s eyebrows shoot up only to furrow. “No,” he says seriously, because now they’ve trailed back towards volleyball. He drops Sugawara’s hand and waves him off; the playful, flirty mood evaporates. “You can drop the honorific. Just Oikawa’s fine.”

“Well, then you may call me Suga if you’d like. That’s what my friends all call me. As nice of a ring as _Refreshing-kun_ has, it’s not my name,” Sugawara offers. He waits a beat and then adds, “My name is Sugawara Koushi, if you didn’t know.”

 _Friends_. Tooru turns away to hide a pleased smile, feeling warmth spread through him to chase away the bad mood that swooped over him a moment ago.

“Yes, well, cute or not, that’s not why Karasuno beat Seijoh,” Tooru says when he turns back around. “You’re a pretty average setter when it comes down to it. Your plays are all generic and predictable.”

“They still got us points, though,” Suga points out. He doesn’t seem annoyed with Tooru for highlighting the flaws in his play style. Suga smiles kindly at him and reaches out to pat his shoulder. “Are you sure it wasn’t because you were smitten that I was able to break through your defenses and win?”

Suga winks at him and Tooru needs to run away, immediately, or else he’s going to leave the park with a crush. The rivalry from their respective schools still burns in both of them, but they aren’t on those teams now. That thought makes Tooru think about a number of possibilities where he’d see Suga more often than Inter and Spring High matches. Tooru briefly lets his imagination run wild and fantasizes that he and Suga end up at the same university.

“That’s all behind us now,” Tooru says. He gives Suga his signature cheeky wink and sticks he tongue out. “I think I’d rather have a secret weapon like you on my side instead of as a rival. Truce?”

Tooru holds his hand out for a shake. Suga waits him out, leaves him dangling. Tooru’s about to yank his hand back and snap at him when Suga takes his hand.

“Truce,” Suga agrees. “I take it you’re heading to university? I just completed my enrollment paperwork.”

“Yeah,” Tooru says. “Tokyo.”

“Me too,” Suga says, bright and cheerful. “It’s a big city. Maybe our paths will cross.”

Tooru hums and shrugs. He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket from a text message. It’s probably Iwaizumi checking in on him, making sure he wasn’t holed up in his room with the blinds drawn and ten conspiracy forums deep.

“Do you think you’ll join the team, if they have one?” Suga chews the corner of his lip and looks thoughtful. “I think I will. I really love playing and I don’t want to give it up yet.”

“Obviously,” Tooru says, making a flippant gesture. Suga peers curiously at him and it makes Tooru feel self conscious. He doesn’t want to admit to Suga that he’s nervous about it all—going away to university, joining a new team, taking the next step towards his dream. “Er, that is…Yes. I’ve already decided to join the team.”

“It’s a lot different than joining the high school teams in first year, even though it’s still just joining a volleyball club when you think about it,” Suga says. His voice is soothing and he lands on something that’s comforting to Tooru. He smiles and leans against the wall beside Suga once more. The rain hasn’t let up entirely, but the thunder and lightning have drifted away. Suga looks out at the soggy field with a thoughtful expression. “I’m kind of looking forward to it all, though. It’s exciting! It’s like an adventure.”

Tooru lazily swings his gaze over to Suga, studying his profile. “The thing about starting on the bottom rung again is that you can’t just stay there forever.”

Suga nods in agreement and looks over at him. He’s quiet, but this time it’s a comfortable silence that Tooru doesn’t feel the urge to fill. With the rain falling and the distant sound of the storm it’s peaceful. It almost feels as if time has slowed for them, giving them both time to gather their wits about them before they’re flung forward toward their futures. Tooru closes his eyes and listens to the rain.

“Hey, Oikawa,” Suga says quietly. Tooru hums. “Good luck at university.”

He feels the brush of something warm and soft against his cheek and when he opens his eyes Suga’s already running off in the rain.

“Wha—” Tooru blurts. His cheek tingles where Suga kissed it. He stares at Suga’s back as he retreats, distracted by the way his shirt gets soaked and hugs his body. Tooru grins and calls out after him. “Thanks for the show, Refreshing-kun!”

Suga flips him off without looking back and Tooru laughs. When Suga is out of sight, Tooru leans back against the brick wall, unable to wipe the big smile off his face. If Iwa-chan saw him right now, he’d probably smack the back of Tooru’s head, but Tooru doesn’t even care. He idly wonders if an encounter with an angel would pass for a true account on the forums he frequents, but he’s not sure what the general consensus is on angels being aliens. He’s mulling over theories as the rain begins to die down at last.

When it slows to a drizzle, Tooru leaves the protection of the building’s overhang and takes out his phone to check on his Instagram feed. He smoothes his thumb over the photo with Suga and ignores the way his heart gives a pleasant flutter in his chest. Tooru slowly jogs in the opposite direction that Suga went, where the sun is breaking through the dark storm clouds and dipping low toward the horizon. 

The fears that had been haunting him from before seem to have melted away, and the only thing left filling his stomach is the twinges of excitement. He’s got time still before the new semester starts. At last, he feels like he can let go of Seijoh for the path ahead.


	2. Fortune

Hoisting his bag higher on his shoulder, Tooru looks around at Chuo University’s campus grounds. He pulls his suitcase behind him. The upperclassmen at the first year check-in table gave him a map and directions to find the building his dorm is in and sent him on his way. Iwa-chan trails behind him, holding a box of Tooru’s things. They both chose universities in Tokyo, but Iwaizumi’s term doesn’t start until a few days after Chuo does, so he’s come along to help Tooru move in. Tooru’s excited to see what kind of room he’ll have and how it compares to Iwa-chan’s.

“Building three, right?” Iwaizumi asks, catching up with Tooru.

“Building three,” Tooru confirms, eyes wandering as he takes it all in. Tokyo is a much bigger city than Sendai. The only times he’s been there before were a few times when he was a kid and once in his first year when he was invited to the All-Japan under 19 training camp. He’s never been to the part of the city Chuo’s campus is located before and it all looks new and undiscovered to him. He perks up when he sees a convenience store tucked between the library and one of the lecture halls. “Oh, look, Iwa-chan! An 8-Eleven! And it’s right next to the library, too. I hope this one carries my favorite juice.”

Iwaizumi grunts, hefting the heavy box in his arms. “What did you put in here?”

Tooru glances at what he’d scrawled across the side of the box. “Books, mostly,” he answers absently. He only packed his essentials and his favorites from his collection, forced to leave most of his things at home. He looks down at the map in his hands and peers around him. “I think that’s building two, so three should be around the corner where that courtyard intersects.”

“Hurry up, this box is heavy,” Iwa-chan says. Tooru smirks and bumps his shoulder into Iwaizumi’s to throw him off balance. “Stop it, Shittykawa!”

Tooru laughs, bright and amused. “What’s wrong, Iwa-chan? Is all that _knowledge_ weighing you down? You should get used to it, now that you’re at university.”

Iwaizumi rounds on him, sticking out an elbow to get Tooru back. He kicks a leg at him when he can’t quite land a hit with the bulky box in his arms. “I will drop your stuff right here and leave. Don’t test me.”

Tooru cries out and drapes himself on Iwaizumi’s arm, hanging on him. “Iwa-chan,” he whines, all for show. He nearly breaks down and laughs; he loves annoying Iwaizumi by being ridiculous. Tooru rubs his cheek against Iwaizumi’s bicep. “I promised to buy you dinner _and_ help you move in, too! You’d leave me stranded and alone in the middle of the city?”

Iwaizumi bears Tooru’s antics with a stony expression, completely used to Tooru’s dramatics after years of friendship. The only indication he’s even listening is a deep sigh that makes the corners of Tooru’s mouth curl up. He doesn’t bother trying to shake Tooru off, just keeps walking until Tooru has to stand up or be dragged along until he trips.

“Remember that time when we were like, seven, and you actually left me alone at the park?” Tooru continues, gesticulating with his hands to get Iwaizumi’s attention. Iwaizumi makes a non-committal hum of acknowledgement. “Your mom was so mad at you, even more than my parents were,” Tooru recounts, laughing at the memory. “I remember you came running around the pond with your face all red and your nose running to come get me. I thought you were going to fling yourself at my feet and start bawling your eyes out.”

“Yeah, and you were completely _fine_. You were looking at the fish,” Iwaizumi grits out. He turns at the courtyard in the direction of Tooru’s building and squints at Tooru. “So I guess you’d be fine if I left now, too.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, Iwa-chan,” Tooru says, sighing. He waves a hand. “I’m sure if you left I’d eventually find some sweet girls to help me find my way.”

“So what you’re saying is you’re totally capable of carrying this box yourself,” Iwaizumi says, a smug edge to his voice as he makes to put it down in the middle of the path.

Tooru pauses. He _could_ ; he’d managed to carry all of his things into the train station in Miyagi, but if he were carrying his box of belongings he’d have to figure out how to pull his suitcase, too. Tooru frowns, considering it like one of his strategic brain teaser puzzles for a moment before he meets Iwaizumi’s challenging look.

“You wouldn’t, though. Because you’re a good friend,” Tooru says, nodding once with decisive confidence. He smiles when Iwaizumi abandons his bluff and shakes his head.

“That’s a real one,” Iwaizumi says quietly.

“Don’t be silly,” Tooru says flippantly. He knows Iwaizumi means his smile. Since he figured it out in middle school when Tooru was being genuine with his expressions, he’s taken to pointing out when he’s smiling for real. “Here we are, building three!”

Iwaizumi mutters something under his breath that Tooru doesn’t hear as they enter the dorm building. He greets the person working the front desk and shows his identification and paperwork. They head for the common room that leads to the upper floors.

Tooru stops in his tracks, feeling Iwa-chan bump into his back. His eyes widen in surprise. For a second it’s weird—there’s something about running into someone you know in a completely unexpected place that tilts Tooru’s world sideways. After a moment he gathers his wits and strolls forward.

“Well, isn’t this my lucky day, Refreshing-kun,” Tooru says, slinging an arm around Suga’s shoulders, interrupting his conversation with another student. Suga jumps slightly and his head whirls around to look at him.

“Oikawa!” Suga’s surprised smile is brilliant like the stars and it makes Tooru a little short of breath to see it this close. He pats Tooru’s hand from where it’s draped over his shoulders. He didn’t think he’d see Suga again, but here he is. Tooru is determined to keep his cool demeanor this time and channels his most charming smile. Suga looks past Tooru and nods. “Hello.”

“Hey,” Iwaizumi greets when he walks over to them.

“I’ll talk to you later, Suga.” The student Suga had been chatting with waves and departs.

“Suga-chan, you remember Iwa-chan, right?” Tooru gestures between them. “He’ll be attending university in the city, too.”

Iwaizumi clicks his tongue in annoyance at the nicknames, but sets down Tooru’s box to bow politely. Suga bows, too. 

“Nice to see you again. Don’t hang on people, Oikawa. It’s rude,” Iwaizumi points out. He reaches out to make a grab for the back of Tooru’s collar, but Tooru dodges and shuffles Suga so he sidesteps.

“Don’t interrupt conversations, _Iwaizumi_ ,” Tooru shoots back. “You cut Suga-chan off from answering.”

“It’s fine. Yeah, I remember. You’ve got a mean spike,” Suga says. He meets Tooru’s eyes. “All of Tokyo and you’re both here? At Chu-Dai?”

“I will be,” Tooru says. He feels a tingling of relief that he won’t really be alone at Chuo. He’d taken to soothing himself that Iwaizumi wouldn’t be more than a train stop away, but Chuo has a big student body and knowing at least one other person makes Tooru feel better. Not that he’s ever had a problem making new friends, but there was a looming sense of disappointment to not have his best friend around all the time. He takes a breath and motions to Iwaizumi. “Iwa-chan will be at Tokyo Metropolitan.”

“Ah,” Suga says, offering a friendly smile. “Nearby, how lucky. That’s great you’ll have a friend that’s close.”

“What’s _lucky_ ,” Tooru says, poking Suga’s cheek with his finger, “is that since you’re here we can promise to get to know each other better. Who would think, we’d go from rival schools on the court to uni mates.”

Suga brushes Tooru’s hand away easily, seemingly immune to Tooru’s tactile habits, and steps out from under Tooru’s arm. “A fresh start for both of us. I must admit, it’s nice to know there’s other students here that I’ll know, at least a little.”

Iwaizumi shifts his weight from one foot to the other in Tooru’s periphery and Tooru holds back a sigh. It’s not goodbye this time, he tells himself. He turns a big, cheerful smile on Suga. “I’m going to go get settled. Since you’re in the same building we should meet up later and, like, hang out and stuff. Get started right away on becoming friends, that is.”

Tooru catches Iwa-chan rolling his eyes from the corner of his peripheral vision and drifts over to discreetly elbow him in the side to cover up his lame delivery. He’s never had to try so hard to appear effortlessly cool when he talks to girls. Something about Suga just throws him off and makes him second-guess himself. Tooru briefly wonders if it’s because Suga seems like a genuinely kind person, or if it’s just because Tooru gets distracted by his looks that flusters him. Thankfully, Suga doesn’t seem to notice. He’s all smiles, refreshing and collected as ever.

“That would be nice. We can find each other later. Bye, then!” Suga waves and walks off in the direction of the main exit to the courtyard. Tooru watches him go.

“You’re an idiot,” Iwaizumi mutters under his breath as he lifts Tooru’s box of belongings once more. “Wipe that starry-eyed look off your face, it’s gross.”

Tooru twirls around and huffs. “Iwa-chan is always so mean to me. I don’t know why I’m even your friend. What are you going to do without me at Tokyo Metropolitan, huh?”

“Make cooler friends, obviously,” Iwaizumi says, smirking. Tooru glares at him without any heat behind the expression.

“Just because I happen to have an interest in subjects like astrophysics and am naturally gifted with good looks and athleticism—”

Iwaizumi barks out a laugh. It echoes in the stairwell Tooru leads them to as they begin to climb to Tooru’s floor. Tooru shoves at Iwaizumi’s shoulder and pretends to be mortally wounded, dragging himself up the stairs.

“Iwa-chan’s mocking laughs are like arrows right to my tender heart,” Tooru says in a pitiful voice, peeking up to see Iwaizumi’s reaction to his histrionics. Iwaizumi stops on the landing between floors and gives him a flat, unimpressed look.

“Get moving, Assikawa, I’d like to get the ramen you promised me at some point today and dealing with you is making me hungry,” Iwaizumi says.

“Only if you promise to be nicer to your best friend, whom you love and adore,” Tooru says, drawing himself up to his full height.

“Is it going to make you actually move if I agree?” Iwaizumi squints suspiciously at him. Tooru grins at him unapologetically, waiting him out. Iwaizumi stares back at him. They’re in a stalemate. Other students pass by them on the stairwell. Tooru raises his eyebrows in an expectant expression, holding out his hands with his palms up. Iwaizumi shakes his head after another minute passes. “Fine; Move. Now.”

Tooru makes a gleeful sound of amusement and climbs the stairs to the next floor. He tosses over his shoulder, “No being mean to me for the rest of the day. And because I’m just so nice, I’ll also buy you an ice cream after we get dinner.”

“You’re the one that likes ice cream so much,” Iwaizumi points out. Tooru hums, trailing off into a chuckle as he walks down the hall where his dorm room is.

Tooru unlocks the door and holds it open for Iwaizumi to enter. It’s a narrow space for two, with stacked bunkbeds to the left and desks against the back wall under a window. His assigned roommate’s things are already in the room, partially unpacked, but they don’t seem to have chosen a bed yet. Tooru lets his bag drop onto the bottom bunk. He hopes his roommate wasn’t waiting until they were both there to pick; he’s too tall to be climbing to the top bunk every night.

“You can put the box down over there, Iwa-chan,” Tooru directs, waving in the direction of the desks without looking. He wheels his suitcase over to the foot of the bed and unzips the bag on his bed to pull out his laptop. He boots it up and turns on some music, then goes back into his bag and lets his practice ball roll to the corner against the wall. “What do you think: posters on the closet door or on the wall?”

“You should wait until you meet your roommate so you don’t piss them off with your decor before you’ve asked if it’s okay to put your stuff up,” Iwaizumi says.

“On the wall it is!” Tooru decides. Iwaizumi snorts and opens Tooru’s box.

“I’m going to unpack your books,” Iwaizumi says.

Tooru digs through his things and begins to move around the room, unpacking and making it feel a bit more his. He holds up his phone and takes a quick Snapchat of the process with the caption _new castle digs_ and sends it off to his friends. They work in quiet for some time; Iwaizumi teases Tooru’s dance routine for their favorite song and Tooru goads him into singing the chorus. Little by little, Tooru’s things are mostly unpacked and put away. His favorite books line the shelf at the head of his bunkbed along with his headphones and his others are taking up most of the space at the desk he picked. He’s stacked a small selection of Seijoh’s best games as well as one of Shiratorizawa’s and the semi-finals match against Karasuno on his desk next to his laptop.

When it’s all done, he makes Iwaizumi wait in the hall after mock-threatening to cram him into the closet so Tooru could take a photo of an empty dorm for his Instagram feed. Iwaizumi flicks him on the forehead and waits dutifully in the hall while Tooru sticks his tongue out to take the perfect snapshot.

Tooru and Iwaizumi are in the middle of looking up reviews for nearby ramen shops when the lock jiggles and clicks. Tooru jumps up from where he’s sprawled on his bed. The door swings open.

“Oh, hi! You must be my roommate—my name is Oikawa To—”

Tooru’s stomach plummets in a gravity defying swoop like a star libero diving to receive one of his service aces.

It’s Suga-chan. Suga-chan has a key to his dorm room. Suga-chan is standing in the open doorway with wide eyes, eyebrows creeping high on his forehead. _Suga-chan is his roommate._

All three of them are silent. Tooru darts a glance at Iwaizumi, who’s hiding his smirk into his arm where he’s rested it across the back of the desk chair he’s straddling. Tooru lets out one, sharp laugh and clears his throat.

“Suga-chan,” he says slowly. “We have to stop meeting like this. But, I guess that means no introductions are necessary.”

Suga lets out a genial chuckle and steps over the threshold to close the door. He rubs the back of his neck and says, “I guess we might be seeing more of each other than we expected.”

Tooru bites down hard on his tongue to keep a flirty quip about _seeing a bit of each other_ from escaping his mouth before he has the chance to think about it. Suga looks around the room.

“I see you’re mostly settled in,” he says, eyes lingering on the posters Tooru hung on the wall— _I Want to Believe_ and _The Truth is Out There_. Suga eyes Tooru furtively out of the corner of his eye. Iwaizumi smirks from his seat at the desk.

“Oikawa is big on aliens,” Iwaizumi explains. Suga covers his mouth with his hand to hide a smile. He has a satchel bag that he takes off and tosses onto the top bunk without a comment.

Tooru almost feels bad for taking the bottom bunk without asking first, but quickly pushes the sentiment aside in order to butt in before Iwaizumi says more. He sits heavily on the bed he claimed and leans back on his hands. He shoots Iwaizumi a narrow-eyed look and mutters, “Extraterrestrials are better than Godzilla.”

“Shut up, they are not, and I will not have this debate with you again,” Iwaizumi says immediately, holding up a palm to cut Tooru off when he opens his mouth to say more. “I know you remember that I won last time.”

“Only because you wrestled me to the ground— _unfairly_ , I feel inclined to add—and sat on me until I gave in. And I only gave in because I was bored!”

“Bored! You were going purple in the face, you had to give in. And you said you liked the movie when we watched it,” Iwaizumi counters.

“Only because I thought the special effects were funny,” Tooru says, exasperated and a little embarrassed to be having this conversation in front of Suga.

Suga says nothing while they bicker; he stands by the end of the bunkbeds looking back and forth between them.

“Aliens—aren’t—real, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says, enunciating each word. He points a finger at Tooru. “Admit it, already.”

“Never!” Tooru gasps, getting riled up. He points back at Iwaizumi. “There are accounts— _real_ accounts that people have shared—there’s _evidence_!”

“If you say some dumb shit like what it says on your poster, Trashykawa, I swear to god—”

“You two remind me of some of my younger teammates at Karasuno,” Suga says abruptly, before Tooru has the chance to shout _the truth is out there_.

Tooru and Iwaizumi both blink and look at Suga, who shifts to lean against the closets. He tilts his head and smiles at them. Tooru’s brain sputters for a few seconds, trying to process that Suga basically just called them immature, but he’s stuck staring at Suga’s smile and the mole by his eye. In his head, an imaginary volleyball grazes his fingertips before echoing on the court and a distant referee’s whistle blows and calls _out_.

“This is just the tip of the iceberg, Sugawara. You should see if you can change roommates before it’s too late,” Iwaizumi advises. He jerks a thumb in Tooru’s direction. “This moron will definitely drive you crazy.”

“That smacks strongly of betrayal, Iwa-chan. How un-knight-like of you to sacrifice your captain this way,” Tooru snipes.

“I’m sure I’ll be just fine, Iwaizumi. Thank you, though,” Suga says. “I was worried I would bother my assigned roommate with all of my gear, but now that I know it’s Oikawa, I feel better. Just don’t leave your sweaty shorts and socks laying around and we’ll get along fine.”

Tooru wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. He has to agree with Suga that it’s a relief to have a roommate that understands what it’s like to be dedicated to practice and tournament schedules. He’s about to ask if Suga wants to join them for ramen when Iwaizumi gets up and stretches.

“I’m tired from lugging your shit around,” Iwaizumi says. “Let’s do dinner after you help me later this week, okay?”

“You don’t want to go out for ramen?” Tooru asks.

“Nah, I’m going to go to my hotel and take a nap,” Iwaizumi says. “We can meet up tomorrow, if you want. I’ll come with you while you figure out your way around your campus. We can find the volleyball gym.”

“Okay,” Tooru agrees, standing up to see him out. “I’ll text you later.”

Iwaizumi makes a sound of acknowledgement and waves goodbye to Suga before leaving them alone. Once the door closes a stale silence blankets the room. An irrational urge grips him for a moment and makes him want to chase after Iwaizumi so that he doesn’t really have to face university without Iwa-chan there, but he wrestles it down into the pit of his stomach. Tooru looks at Suga out of the corner of his eye and searches for something to talk about, something that they’ll have in common. It was easier when Iwaizumi was there to act as a buffer. Now he really does have to make an effort to get to know Suga. His eyes fall on his volleyball in the corner of his bed and he leans over to scoop it up, twirling it methodically like he does before a serve. He leans his hip against the bed frame.

“So, are you still debating joining the team here?” Tooru asks. It’s a start; it’s the only thing he really knows about Suga, after all.

Suga pulls out one of the desk chairs and sits down. “No more debating. I plan on joining the club.”

“Do you want to go as far as you can with it?” Tooru asks, curious.

“I want to play on the court for as long as I can,” Suga says. “I told you before I didn’t want to give it up yet.”

“Even if you don’t plan to make it your career?” Tooru presses. Tooru’s been so focused on steadily moving toward his dream that the thought of playing without that purpose doesn’t make sense to him anymore.

Suga shrugs. “It’s a stepping stone for some people’s careers into the pros, and for others like me it’s a club. But at the end of the day it’s still a team.”

Tooru hums and spins his practice ball again, smacking his palms against it to halt its rotation. He considers Suga’s answer for a moment, turning it over in his head. “That means we’ll be on the same team. Weird.”

“Yeah, a bit. I’m interested to see what it will be like to work alongside each other. Now that we’ll be allies on the same side of the net,” Suga says, and there’s something in the way he says it that’s pulling an excited smile of anticipation out of Tooru. Getting to work with an entire new set of variables to play at their best makes Tooru’s fingertips tingle with the need to be on a court practicing his sets. Maybe he can get Suga to practice with him later.

“Is that something your coach used to say?” Tooru tosses his volleyball to Suga, who catches it neatly. Tooru plops down on the edge of his bed, legs splaying out.

“Tanaka, actually. He said it to Hinata at that practice match with Seijoh,” Suga says with a fond look as he fiddles with the ball in his hands.

It makes Tooru miss his Seijoh teammates; the pang echoes briefly in his chest. He stretches and lays back on the bed, crossing his legs at the ankle. Suga will have to step over his legs to get to the door if he wants to leave. Tooru lets his mind wander. Without Iwaizumi to eat with, Tooru supposes he could go to the school’s cafeteria for dinner. A glance at the window behind Suga’s head shows the afternoon light beginning to fade. He closes his eyes and rubs a hand over his stomach. They’re both quiet for a few minutes.

“Do you want to go get dinner together?” Tooru asks after a while to break the silence. He’s getting hungry after spending the afternoon putting his things away. Suga doesn’t answer him for a stretched out beat.

“Look, Oikawa,” Suga starts. Tooru looks over at him. He’s got a determined, but apologetic expression on his face. Tooru leans up on his elbows. It’s the first time Tooru’s seen him look less than confident. Suga takes a breath and continues talking. “Just because we know each other a little and we ended up being roommates—I mean…we don’t have to hang out all the time. If you don’t want to. Don’t feel obligated, or anything.”

“Going back on our promise to be friends already, Suga-chan?” Tooru teases. He sits up all the way and _tsks_. “Let’s make a deal. Since we’re both planning to join the volleyball team, and we’re roommates, that we’ll get to know each other. If you’re going to be my teammate, I want to be friends. Let’s say—if we don’t have plans with anyone else that we eat meals together.”

Suga blows out a breath and grants Tooru with a pleased smile. “Okay,” he agrees. “Deal.”

“Good. Dinner?” Tooru gets up and swipes his wallet from the shelf on his headboard. “Iwa-chan and I were looking up the best ramen shops near campus, but we could try the cafeteria or—oh, did you see there’s a convenience store by the library?”

Suga gets up and goes on his tiptoes slightly to pull down his satchel. “I did. I’m really glad because my favorite snack after a practice is pork buns.”

Tooru loops an arm over Suga’s shoulders to steer him and they leave their shared dorm room together. Suga pauses to lock the door and they head out to explore the campus. It’s still settling in Tooru’s mind that when they’re done, they’ll return to that room together. Because Suga-chan is his college roommate. The first of his new teammates for his college team.


	3. Infirmary

The first night in the room, Tooru expects it to be awkward. He pictures prolonged silences and accidentally bumping into each other when they both try to go the same way. It’s not like they have much space to move around, and Tooru is several centimeters taller than Suga-chan—enough to peer over the top of his head. Somehow when they were playing against each other on the court in tournaments Suga didn’t seem so much shorter, but here in their dorm room Tooru feels like it’s glaringly apparent, feeling more like he’s towering over Suga in their shared space. Normally it would be the kind of thing to make him gloat about his superiority, but he holds it back, waiting for more opportunities to observe his dorm mate and find out what kind of person he really is.

Instead of awkward silences, it’s actually comfortable—more-so than Tooru would expect when they’ve only spent a few hours in each other’s company. There’s something about Suga’s presence that fills the room with a sense of peace, even though talking to him continues to make Tooru tongue-tied. Suga even offers up his tube of toothpaste when it turns out Tooru forgot his. For a split second it’s like Iwa-chan is with him after all, there to take care of him when his mind is too wrapped up in other things to remember trivial things like packing all of his toiletries. Tooru smiles sheepishly when he takes the toothpaste, promising to go out in the morning to buy some, and slips out of their room to brush his teeth.

When he returns and toes off his indoor slippers by the door, Suga is tucked into bed on the top bunk and smiling softly at his phone, texting someone. It’s different from the other smiles Tooru’s catalogued throughout the day; this one is fond and wistful all at once. It tugs at Tooru’s curiosity, his need to have all the knowledge he can get his hands on so that he knows what moves to make.

“My, my, what a soppy look, Suga-chan. Texting your girlfriend how much you miss her?” Tooru quips, letting a little bite bleed into his tone. It’s kind of a dick move to tease Suga after he was nice enough to let Tooru borrow his toothpaste, but Tooru’s not the nice one here.

Suga rolls his head against his pillow to look at him, letting his phone drop to his chest. “I don’t have a girlfriend. It’s Daichi, actually.”

“Oh,” Tooru says. Suga always did seem connected at the hip to Karasuno’s team captain as his second in command to lead their team to victory. Tooru’s not an idiot; he’s seen those thighs in volleyball shorts. He smirks. “Yeah, I’d probably make a look like that, too, if I had to be separated from Daichi-san or his god-like thighs for any length of time. How are you coping? Should I give you two some time alone to—”

Tooru cuts off and makes a suggestive leer at Suga accompanied by a vague hand gesture, eyes flicking down the lump his body makes under his covers. When he meets Suga’s eyes again he bites his lip and waggles his eyebrows. “We’ll have to work out some kind of code or a system.”

Suga snorts and raises an eyebrow. “Daichi’s not my boyfriend, Oikawa.”

“No? You’ve never thought about him like that—not once?” Tooru asks, suspicious. He knows people make the same assumptions about him and Iwa-chan. He might not be Tooru’s boyfriend, but what’s a few kisses and some experimentation between best friends? Tooru steps closer to the stacked beds and folds his arms to lean against the top bunk, propping his chin on his forearms. “Gossip with me, Suga-chan. Tell me—you _have_ to have fooled around with him.”

“Oikawa—”

“A little truth or dare at summer training camp?” Tooru continues, tilting his head and dropping his voice to a low croon. Suga remains completely unflappable, not reacting at all to Tooru’s entirely too forward teasing. He knows he should stop, that when he’s in a mood like this he’s too much to handle, but now it’s like a challenge to him—just how far can he go, what can he get away with saying before Suga loses that cool tranquility. Tooru leans closer, letting his lids lower. “You’ve never even shared a futon and _accidentally_ copped a feel? Never let your eyes stray in the locker room?”

Suga huffs out a laugh, his warm breath ghosting over Tooru’s face. He rolls onto his side to fully face Tooru and tucks a bent arm under his cheek. “Nope. Not once. Are you telling me all this because it was different for you and your vice captain? I’ll listen if you want to tell me about it. Is Iwaizumi-san your boyfriend, then?”

Tooru jolts up and grips the edge of Suga’s sheets. “I—you— _no_.” He stumbles over his words. “No,” he repeats more firmly. “Of course not. I mean…we’ve done stuff, but— _uh_ —”

 _Fuck_ , he didn’t mean to actually admit to anything. His face goes hot and he chokes on the saliva he breathes in when he goes to swallow. Suga sits up and Tooru makes a noise between panic and pain, waving him off as he hacks and coughs, trying to clear his airway, lacking every ounce of grace he has control of on a volleyball court. God, he’s an idiot. He should’ve just gone to bed. He can hear Iwa-chan’s stern voice in his head: _What is wrong with you? Why are you like this?_

Tooru covers his burning face with a hand and jumps when he realizes Suga is talking to him, trying to get his attention. He’s on his hands and knees, nearly overbalanced at the edge of the top bunk with one arm hanging in the air between them.

“—kawa… _Oikawa_? Are you okay?” Suga asks. Tooru peeks through his fingers. Suga’s got a concerned expression on his face, but doesn’t seem too alarmed. Tooru inhales slowly through his nose and blows it all out in one breath.

“Yeah, er,” Tooru says, trying to laugh it off and holding back a wince when it sounds hollow to his ears. “I’m—yes. Sorry. I’m sorry about all that. Can we, like…erase the last ten minutes and forget about all that?”

Suga doesn’t say anything for a couple of beats and sits back on his heels. “Of course. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tooru nods jerkily and offers a cheeky salute to Suga before ducking into his bunk and face-planting into his pillow.

“Goodnight, Suga-chan.” His voice is muffled by his pillow. _Off to a great start getting to know your roommate, Oikawa_ , he thinks to himself and sighs.

“Night. Sleep well,” Suga replies. Tooru listens to Suga shuffling around on the top bunk. He reaches blindly for his phone and debates recounting what just happened to Iwaizumi, but when he leans up and unlocks his phone he finds a message already waiting for him.

>> **From: Iwa-chan** [ _23:28_ ]:  
_Go to bed._

Tooru smirks and slumps down, snaking one arm around his pillow to prop himself up and types out a reply.

<< **To: Iwa-chan** [ _23:47_ ]:  
_how do you know i’m still awake, hmm????? (๑ˇ ῁̫ ˇ)˒˒ what if i was sleeping and you woke me up???_

Iwaizumi responds immediately. Tooru runs a hand through his fringe, pushing it back and scratches his head absently.

>> **From: Iwa-chan** [ _23:47_ ]:  
_Bed. [middle finger emoji]_

<< **To: Iwa-chan** [ _23:48_ ]:  
_are u my mom??? ( ⚈ ̫ ⚈ ) ( ⚈ ̫ ⚈ ) ( ⚈ ̫ ⚈ )_

>> **From: Iwa-chan** [ _23:49_ ]:  
_I’m Samuel L. Jackson, go the fuck to sleep_

Tooru presses his face back into his pillow to muffle a snort of laughter and types out one last reply before he sets his phone face down on the shelf and climbs under his sheets.

*******

Suga’s true to his word and acts like Tooru never brought up any past encounters with their former teammates and for that, Tooru is grateful.

By the time they’re a couple of weeks into the term, Tooru finds himself relying on Suga a lot, despite not meaning to. He drifts toward him anyway. He’s barely made an effort to seek out new friends, not when he could spend time with Suga. He knows Suga’s made friends; he can easily see why, now that he’s learning what it’s like to live with him. There’s something magnetic and warm— _inviting_ and nurturing about him. 

Tooru doesn’t know what it was exactly that really hooked Tooru, but either way Suga’s reeling him in like a fish on a line. It could’ve been any number of incidents that seem inconsequential on their own, but when accumulated they tug on the invisible tether drawing him closer to Suga. There was the first time, when Suga caught him going back out to practice alone after returning to the dorm with Iwaizumi the day after they moved into the dorm. He’d perked up and tagged along, saying how much he wanted to see the gym, if Tooru and Iwa-chan found it, and that he could do with some practice before club sign ups opened up. Suga didn’t say anything when Tooru adjusted his knee brace, drenched in sweat from edging along the line of overworking himself in practice, but Suga kept adjusting their pace and slowing them down before Tooru was even aware of it, keeping him back from crossing the line that meant injury rather than skill-honing. Two nights later, Tooru accidentally woke Suga up when he was awake long after Suga had gone to bed, his face lit by the dimmed glow of his laptop screen and his sheets pulled up around his shoulders like a cape. Suga saw him in his glasses when he climbed down the ladder for some water and smiled a drowsy smile before telling him he’d get bags under his eyes if he didn’t get some sleep. Tooru scoffed, but then muttered an apology for waking Suga. He was waved off as Suga went back to bed. After the first week on campus came to an end, Suga helped Tooru hunt down a shop that sold milk bread, exploring Tokyo together. He even ended up spotting Tooru the extra yen when he was short without Tooru even asking for it.

Tooru and Suga easily fall into a routine in the short amount of time they’ve been at school. They eat meals together, they share a Psychology class on Tuesdays and Thursdays and chose seats side by side without any hesitation, and they spend time in their dorm room together when they’re both there. It’s a little off-putting, when Tooru realizes how quickly he slid into the routine with Suga. For a long time he’s only had Iwa-chan as someone he felt a similar closeness with. He isn’t sure whether to feel glad he can find that kind of friendship with someone who isn’t Iwa-chan, or be sad that they don’t get to have the same closeness as they had before.

Part of Tooru—the part that likes to sneak up on him and remind him he’s only good enough if he keeps working, until he succeeds, until he _wins_ —worries that Suga might resent him for keeping Suga from meeting more people than he’s had the opportunity to so far by monopolizing Suga’s free time. But then, another part of him wants to hold on tighter. Tooru’s known Suga longer than anyone who’s chosen Chu-Dai; he’s the one who used to be on the rival team, so he should be the one closest to Suga now. Tooru shoves those thoughts down, pushes them to the back of his mind where he tries to keep a firm hold on his insecurities about his self worth and his success as a volleyball player.

The irrationally possessive grip on Suga begins to slip once they end up running into Kuroo Tetsurou on their way into the 8-Eleven, all of them laden with textbooks and notes.

“Kuroo!” Suga says, sounding delighted.

Kuroo glances up from where he’s standing in front of a rack with two options for snacks in his hands, seemingly weighing his options. He sees Suga and his mouth spreads into a lazy grin.

“Well hello there,” Kuroo greets raising a fist to bump against the one Suga holds up. His eyes slide over to Tooru, who is half a step behind Suga. “I see you’ve still got captains by your side.”

“Oikawa’s my roommate,” Suga says.

“We’ve got Psych together, too,” Tooru says. He nods to Kuroo, eyeing him with an appraising look. “I’ve seen your matches.”

“Oh yeah?” Kuroo’s got a sedate air about him, but he moves fluidly. Tooru watches as he slides one snack selection back onto its rack and turns to face them once more and his mind immediately spurs into simulating plays that could work with what he’s seen of Kuroo’s gameplay.

“This is so great that you’re here,” Suga says. “Does Daichi know you’re here?”

Kuroo shrugs. “I mentioned before, after graduation. He didn’t tell me you enrolled here, so maybe he forgot.”

Kuroo follows them through the 8-Eleven as Tooru and Suga pick out their study fuel selections. Tooru tunes out their conversation as he wanders down the next aisle to fetch a drink. He’s a little annoyed that it seems like Suga knows Kuroo better—he remembers Suga mentioning something about a training camp and practice matches when they’d talked about third year. Suga told him that Karasuno and Nekoma’s coaches were long time friends and rivals, older than the rivalry Tooru had against Karasuno.

He saunters back over to where Suga and Kuroo are in the convenience store and nearly twitches into action when he sees the way Suga’s cheeks are flushed with happiness and the self-satisfied expression on Kuroo’s face.

Tooru know’s he’s being completely ridiculous, but he has to work to smother the urge to drape himself over Suga’s back and wrap his arms around him like an octopus. _Suga’s not Iwa-chan_ , Tooru reminds himself. He hasn’t known Tooru and his weird habits long enough; their friendship is still new, still transitioning from competitive setters on either side of the net to allies.

“So did you make it in on scholarship for those blocking skills? I would’ve thought you’d take an offer for a better team in the university league than Chuo’s team,” Tooru says. Suga shoots him a look and Kuroo gives Tooru a quick once over, sizing him up.

“I’m not here on sport scholarship, no,” Kuroo says. “Are you? I’d be a little surprised, since you didn’t make it past the semi-finals for your prefecture.”

Tooru grits his teeth together. He can feel his tenuous hold on his temper slipping, feels pettiness welling up in him—then the warm weight of Suga’s hand on his arm. He looks down and Suga’s staring at him with a placating expression. He squeezes Tooru’s arm once and raises his eyebrows, glancing over briefly in Kuroo’s direction. Tooru gets what he’s saying, and he nearly laughs that it’s only taken them a couple of weeks of spending as much time as possible together to achieve silent communication. Suga’s warning him not to mince his words with Kuroo since they’re all volleyball players—they’re all likely to be teammates. His look says _be nice_ and Tooru takes a quick breath to calm down.

“No, I’m not here on scholarship, either. I do plan to join the club, though,” Tooru says.

Kuroo makes a humming sound in acknowledgement and looks Tooru over once more. His irritating, cat-like smirk lets Tooru know that his thoughts are probably easy to read, even without voicing them.

The three of them pay for their purchases and leave the convenience store. They gather under the shade of a tree and Suga carries the conversation once more.

“I can’t believe you’ve been here for two weeks and we haven’t run into each other until now,” Suga says. “What building are you in?”

“Two. Did you find the gym yet? I know sign ups for the clubs don’t open until the fair this weekend, but I want to poke around and get a feel for it,” Kuroo says.

“Yeah, we’ve gone a few nights a week since we got here. Oikawa and one of his Seijoh teammates, Iwaizumi, found it,” Suga says. He pulls up a map of the campus on his phone and Kuroo leans into his space. Tooru looks away. “If you want to come with us, we’re going later today, after our last class ends in the afternoon.”

“Sounds good. I’m in,” Kuroo agrees.

Tooru knows it’s inevitable; there’s a whole team of player’s they’ll meet soon, so it’s not like he’d have his new friend to himself forever. With Suga appearing to know Kuroo well enough and Kuroo’s plans to keep playing volleyball, Tooru can easily predict that Kuroo will be joining their twosome.

“Okay, I’ll text you when we both get out. Meet here?” Suga suggests. He looks over to Tooru for confirmation and Tooru nods.

“I’ve got a lecture. Later,” Kuroo says. He bumps fists with Suga again and nods to Tooru, the corners of his mouth curling up in a weirdly feline way.

Suga and Tooru turn toward the library.

“What a small world it is,” Tooru says as they make their way to the study cubicles at the back of the library. “Of all the gin joints, as they say.”

“This is one of your dramatic moods Iwaizumi talked about, right? You’re quoting movies like it makes you sound smarter, but you’re intelligent enough on your own,” Suga says. Tooru pouts and leans heavily on Suga and he laughs and struggles to hold them both up under the added weight. “You can be pretty childish, you know. I thought it was just because of your thing with Kageyama.”

“Little Tobio-chan brings out the worst in me,” Tooru agrees. “He’ll be a nightmare to play against once he gets to the uni league.”

Suga hums and pats Tooru to make him stand up again. Suga sets his books and his satchel down in the cubicle closest to the windows and looks over at Tooru with a curious glint in his eyes.

“Oikawa,” he says slowly. Tooru waits him out while he gets himself set up, lining up his texts with his notebooks. Suga fiddles with the cover of one of Tooru’s books, tracing it with the edge of his nail. “I was just wondering…You were the star captain on the top four school in Miyagi prefecture. Why didn’t you get a scholarship?”

Tooru clenches his pencil in his fist and breathes out slowly. He swallows once and tries to fight against the wave of discomfort that feels like it’s about to crash over Tooru and smother him beneath his inadequacies. He sighs heavily and ruffles his hair.

“It wasn’t that I wouldn’t have taken one, Suga. I wasn’t scouted,” Tooru explains.

He hates the piteous look that flashes across Suga’s face. He schools it into something more calm and understanding. Tooru wants to look away; he doesn’t want _understanding_. Suga reaches out and squeezes Tooru’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. Scholarships don’t guarantee a contract with a pro team, or a spot on the national team for that matter.”

Tooru nods. It’s the same mantra he’s told himself over and over. “As far as I know, only Ushiwaka from our prefecture and Bokuto Koutarou were able to go to university on a sport scholarship. The best of the best.”

Suga tilts his head and reaches out to grab Tooru’s wrist. His fingertips brush against Tooru’s pulse point. “You’re good, too, Oikawa. You’re really good. And now that you’re here you’ll get even better. It’s like you keep saying, it’s a whole new league with new potential.”

Tooru can feel his lingering doubts and irritation melting away slowly. One side of his mouth quirks up and he folds himself into his seat. “You always know just what to say, Refreshing-kun.”

Suga bumps his hip against Tooru’s side and knocks his fist gently against the top of Tooru’s head before messing up his hair. Tooru squawks under Suga’s attack and goes for Suga’s sides, pinching anywhere he can reach. Suga yields, laughing and collapses into his chair in the cubicle beside Tooru’s. His eyes are luminous in the morning light streaming through the window, smile stretched across his face. Tooru’s stomach swoops pleasantly. Tooru ducks to hide his face from Suga, cheeks prickling with a rush of heat.

*******

After the club fair, Tooru, Suga, and Kuroo are first years all over again. It binds them together as they work to find their place and adjust to working with new people as well as each other.

Kuroo went to three solo practices with Suga and Tooru prior to the fair and Tooru watched his drills with a critical eye. Kuroo seemed like a lot to handle at first, with his smarmy personality and the air of mischief he seemed to blanket himself in, but Tooru decided he liked it. He was sharp as a tack and always had another quip ready as a follow up to any of Tooru’s snarky remarks.

Tooru practices hard during team practice and harder in solo practice, as has always been his habit. Iwaizumi’s words always echo in his mind when he’s been working for too long, telling him to pack it in already. It helps to bring Tooru back from the brink of crossing that line Suga’s so good at keeping him back from whenever Suga is around, always watching Tooru and controlling their pace. Tooru forgets, sometimes, that Suga’s a setter, too. It’s part of his position to read others.

Their first few weeks on the team pass by quickly. Their coach puts them through drill after drill, practice match after match, until the entire team are laying on the floor of the court. They’re rotated in and out of games, sometimes subbing for different positions than their official ones. Tooru teases Kuroo, ribbing him that the coach is going to sub him in as the libero, just to see if he could play it. Suga laughs along with Tooru, having already been subbed in as a libero once himself, but he’s the shortest of the three of them.

“I could do it, I bet,” Kuroo claims. He flexes in a pose. “I have quick reflexes.”

“You’re on, loser buys pork buns after practice,” Tooru says gleefully, pointing at Kuroo, charged with the thrill of competition.

Tooru and Suga barely hold it together after they roped a couple of second years to help them test Kuroo’s abilities as a libero. He’s quick, yes, but watching him go from standing at the ready to diving for the floor have them in stitches.

Suga’s wiping away a tear as he mutters about the bounce of Kuroo’s mop of wild hair looking like a cat toy being waved around. Tooru’s leaning most of his weight on Suga for support, his arms looped around Suga’s shoulders to hold himself up; his sides are cramping up from how hard he’s laughing, his breaths coming out in a wheeze. Kuroo grins and calls for one more, diving for the spike with agility and grace that doesn’t match his height at all. He stands and bows to his teammates after he manages to receive the ball.

After practices are over, Suga and Tooru walk Kuroo back to his building. Their routine shifted after Kuroo joined the group, but it’s a shift Tooru’s quickly becomes familiar with. He leads them into 8-Eleven and buys pork buns for the three of them.

Their next match is coming up—a practice game against a school in the next district. Tooru’s practice bleeds into every part of his day. He gets Suga to go on runs with him whenever he’s not studying and challenges Kuroo to races when Suga’s tied up with his coursework.

Tooru’s hunger for the sport, for improving, only grows. It’s just like his dedication before, only this time it’s because he has a drive to hone his skills in order to give himself the edge he needs to stay ahead of those who are born with it, that genius talent for the game like Tobio-chan was blessed with. This time it’s not as simple as a kouhai getting a position on the starting lineup if he falters. He only has two years before Kageyama catches up to him again and enters the university league.

Tooru bites down on the inside of his cheek and centers his focus for another jump serve. He aims at a row of plastic bottles in the empty gym. His aim on his serves has been off for a week and he has to get it back under control if he wants to be a strong contender for his team. The coach selected him to be substituted in for one of the two official matches they’ve had in the season so far and Tooru is dead set on making sure it happens again. Next time is always calling to him.

Tooru tosses the volleyball up and lets the muscle memory take over. He jumps, his palm smacks into the ball, and it’s soaring over the net in a rush and crashing against the bottle Tooru wanted to hit. He grins smugly and wipes the sweat from his face. He goes for his water bottle to give himself a chance to catch his breath. The door to the gym creaks open and Suga stands there, silhouetted by afternoon light.

“Thought I’d find you here,” Suga says by way of greeting. “Did you finish your paper for your Literature course?”

“Ehh,” Tooru says, drawing out his syllables.

Suga makes a face. “You have to focus on your studies, too, you know. Come on. I’ve got your favorite juice back at our room for you if you’ll come study.”

Tooru perks up and scrubs his towel over his face. He says in a flirty, syrupy voice, “Bribery will get you everywhere.”

Suga hums good-naturedly and crosses his arms over his chest. Tooru’s eyes dip down to the flex of his forearms for a brief second before twirling away to pick up the balls and the bottles. Suga goes to the storage closet and retrieves a mop. When they’re done, he bounces over to Suga and follows him from the gym, feeling lighter and happy.

It’s only a few days later when Tooru goes too hard at a morning practice and finally crosses that line he’s been challenging. He lands hard on his knee that was injured before. The shock of pain spikes through his whole body like a current of lightning and he grinds his teeth together, fists clenched tight and nails biting into his palms. For a few seconds he hears nothing at all, like the alien encounters he reads about online have come and sucked the sound from the room with advanced tech.

But then, it’s like a bubble bursts and he’s able to comprehend the shouts of his coach and his teammates, the squeak of trainers against the court.

Suga’s by his side, kneeling over where Tooru is curled around his leg, his face pinched with worry.

“Can you stretch it out?” Suga asks. Kuroo appears over Suga’s shoulder along with the coach and assistant coach.

Tooru’s knuckles go white from channeling the ache in his knee. He’s frustrated with himself for making such a dumb mistake, and in practice—always in practice—rather than a real game. He has to play hard to train hard, to get better, but he’s better than this. He stretches his leg out gingerly and prods around the edges of his brace. It’s tender, but it should be fine. He repeats it in his head: _you’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine_.

Tooru nods and shakes his head to the onslaught of questions and orders from his coach. He’s to go to the infirmary and have the doctor check him over. Suga helps him up and slings Tooru’s arm over his shoulders to help support him if he needs it. They take a step and Tooru grimaces at the throb of pain. Kuroo trails behind them and grabs their gym bags. There are calls of encouragement from their teammates. One of the upperclassmen claps Tooru on the shoulder and tells him he’ll see him back on the court.

The three of them trudge slowly toward the infirmary on campus. The fact that it’s a walk Tooru could cover in less than half the time it takes him agitates him. He gets more and more tense as they make their way. Suga keeps shooting him glances full of concern.

“So much fanfare,” Kuroo says from behind them. “You should see your face, too. It’s like someone threw your ice cream on the ground and pissed on it.”

Tooru grunts. He appreciates that Kuroo aims for something close to normal rather than the waves of worry coming from Suga that are trying to topple Tooru over. He smirks over his shoulder at Kuroo.

“Well, I am royalty,” he says with an air of mock-superiority.

“A royal pain in the ass,” Kuroo shoots back.

They reach the infirmary and Kuroo leaves them with their bags before returning to practice. Suga stays with Tooru. A nurse shows them to a waiting room and leaves them alone. Suga sits in the seat beside him while Tooru stretches his leg out in front of him and tips his head back against the wall, closing his eyes to keep his mind off the dull throb.

“Just say whatever it is you’ve been working up to, please,” Tooru says quietly after a few minutes of tense silence. Suga makes a frustrated sound and turns to face him.

“I just—” Suga exhales and squeezes the arm of his chair.

Tooru cracks open one eye and peers at Suga.

“I think you’re working yourself way too hard,” Suga says, sounding like he’s one of Tooru’s parents rather than his roommate.

“Gotta work hard to play in those big leagues, my friend,” Tooru says in a brittle tone. He slouches down in the chair and closes his eyes again. The smack of Suga’s palm against his arm rest makes him snap his eyes open again.

“That’s bullshit,” Suga says, heat creeping into his voice. Tooru opens his mouth, but Suga barrels on. “You’re not here in some private training camp for the next few years on your own, Oikawa. You’re here as part of a _team_. We all have to practice— _together_. There is a fine line between solo practice and being reckless because you’re so desperate to get what you want that you’ll break yourself in the process.”

“I have to fight that hard for it, Suga!” Tooru snaps. He scoots up in his chair and jabs a finger at Suga. “I want it more badly than you seem to—you’ve already said you’re not here to make a career out of volleyball. But I _am_. I want to make my mark on this team, and in order to do that I have to work my ass off to make the starting line up.”

Suga levels a look far angrier and full of more disappointment than Tooru’s ever seen from him and it’s jarring, like it’s out of place in someone who’s usually Tooru’s source of positivity. Suga grabs a hold of his wrist and leans into Tooru’s space.

“Don’t make light of why you’re better than me, you self-centered asshole,” Suga says through his teeth. “I love being on the court. I didn’t join the team just to cheer from the bench. Not wanting to go to the pro league doesn’t make me less worthy of playing than you. We are a _team_ ,” he repeats in a heated whisper. “And that means we support each other. We don’t fight for victory on our own; we work together.”

Before Tooru can respond, the door opens to admit the doctor. Tooru darts a look at Suga; the only lingering sign that he was furious at him a moment ago is the rise and fall of his chest. He stands to give the doctor room, bowing to him. Tooru wants to reach out and latch onto him, but he retreats to the corner of the room.

The doctor carefully removes Tooru’s brace after introducing himself. He spends some time examining Tooru’s knee, prodding at it and having him do several movements to make sure nothing was damaged. The doctor smiles as he stands.

“Your knee will be fine,” the doctor says. Suga visibly wilts in relief across the room. “A few days rest will do the trick. I’ll have the nurse give you a copy of instructions. Good day, gentlemen.”

Suga bows to the doctor, thanking him. He straightens and turns to Tooru with a small frown.

“I’m sorry,” Suga says.

“Don’t be. You’re right,” Tooru says on a sigh. “I get…stuck in my head sometimes. It happened before. The last time I…well, I had Iwa-chan there to knock some sense into me, but that was before I sprained it, so I guess I didn’t exactly learn my lesson then.” Tooru pauses and fiddles with his knee brace. He looks up and meets Suga’s eyes. “I’m…glad I have you here with me now to tell me when I’m being an idiot.”

Suga blinks and his expression slowly shifts into a fond one. He smiles down at Tooru and holds a hand out to pull him up. “I think that’s going to take a lot of reminders.”

Tooru pretends to die right there in his chair, a big dramatic scene that would be worthy of a movie award. Suga laughs and leans over to tug him out of the chair. Tooru slides his arms around Suga’s shoulders and squeezes him once, running his hand over Suga’s back.

“Thank you,” he mumbles into Suga’s shoulder, hunched over to hug him. Suga squeezes him back.

When they get back to their dorm, Suga helps Tooru get into bed after they get cleaned up and change out of their practice sweats. Tooru milks Suga’s kindness for all that he can, requesting a juice and an extra pillow and a movie marathon. Suga laughs and flicks him on the forehead when Tooru tries to persuade Suga to go out to the shop they found at the beginning of term to get Tooru milk bread. Suga flops into Tooru’s bed beside him and pretends to smother him with a pillow from the mound Tooru has around him.

“Hinata was right, you are a king,” Suga laughs while Tooru fights him off.

“If you’re going to acknowledge me as royalty, then I’ll gladly act like it,” Tooru says with a toothy grin. “Fine, if I’m not getting milk bread, at least put the movie on. The price is that you have to watch it with me, too.”

“That I can do,” Suga agrees. He gets up to get Tooru’s laptop while Tooru readjusts his pillow mound.

Suga sets up the movie and climbs into bed beside Tooru. For a while, they pay attention to it. Tooru’s seen it enough times to have it memorized, so he eventually gets more entertainment out of watching Suga’s reactions. Suga’s face is expressive and captivating. His eyes are transfixed on the laptop screen, lips parted. As he’s furtively studying Suga, he finds himself really glad that he’s found someone other than Iwaizumi who will put up with him because they care about him.

After the first movie and before Suga puts on the second, he pauses and turns to Tooru.

“About what I said earlier—I don’t think I expressed it right,” Suga says softly.

Tooru sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. “It’s—it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, Suga-chan.”

“No, this is important. I want to make sure I say it right,” Suga insists. He shifts closer and looks at Tooru earnestly. “Volleyball is a good game, and I have fun playing it. But more importantly than that—I love the relationships with my teammates. I don’t care about winning on my own, but winning with my team— _because_ of the combined hard work of my team? That’s what I love the most about it.”

Tooru stares at him, his heart thumping insistently in his chest. Suga continues on.

“There’s nothing better than a team learning to work to their best strengths together. I know I should be focusing on my studies and my future, but I can’t let it go yet. Playing professionally isn’t what I want. But if it’s your dream to keep playing, to go as far as you can in volleyball as a career, then you have to pace yourself and take better care of yourself, Oikawa,” Suga murmurs. There’s a delicate air filling their dorm room that Tooru doesn’t want to break. He keeps gazing at Suga.

Something in Suga’s eyes spurs Tooru into speaking, before he’s fully aware what he’s going to say. “I, uh…When I hurt my knee the first time, my doctor told me that if I ever blew it out I’d…have to stop playing,” Tooru admits. Suga shifts so that he can put a comforting hand on Tooru’s shoulder. Tooru runs a hand through his hair and leans his head on Suga’s shoulder. “The thing is. I get stuck feeling that if I don’t keep practicing, people like Kageyama will easily surpass me and I’ll be left in the dust.”

There’s a pit in his stomach that burns to voice those words, but Suga’s arm loops around his shoulders and holds him close. He rests his cheek against the top of Tooru’s head and Tooru holds on to Suga’s sweater. Suga’s fingers play with the ends of Tooru’s hair.

Suga’s voice is soft and gentle when he says, “Oikawa, there’s other things in life besides volleyball. Would your life really be over if you were forced to stop playing or change your dream?”

He runs his fingers through Tooru’s hair to soften the blow of his words and Tooru holds onto Suga tighter, making a sound at the back of his throat. He turns the idea over in his mind, imagines the sick feeling of his knee preventing him from playing. His whole life has been dedicated volleyball, it’s all he’s wanted to do since he was a kid. He sighs and leans more of his weight on Suga to soak up his comfort.

“I decided on a major,” Suga says. He’s still methodically combing his fingers through Tooru’s hair and he makes a soft sound of acknowledgement. “I think I’d like to be a physical therapist for athletes. I’ll still be near enough to volleyball, maybe, and I’ll get to be helpful.”

“Suga,” Tooru says, tilting his head up to look Suga in the eye. “That’s—that sounds great.”

Suga’s hand leaves his hair and his fingertips skim down Tooru’s cheek. Suga grants him a fond look and Tooru acts.

It takes practically nothing for Tooru to lean up and kiss Suga. He brings up one hand to carefully cup Suga’s jaw and relishes the soft sound of surprise Suga makes. His fingertips touch the back of Tooru’s hand. Tooru feels like he does when one of his service aces scores, flying past everyone on the other side of the net. Suga’s kissing him back and warmth is spreading through Tooru.

It hits him then how much he likes Suga. Tooru inhales sharply and pulls back, blinking owlishly at Suga. _Shit_ , he thinks. He _really_ likes Suga—only, they’re friends and he might have just messed up their friendship by kissing Suga. Tooru releases Suga and presses his fingertips to his lips. Suga’s eyes are slow to open and they’re full of a look that’s heated and so different from the Suga he’s used to. Tooru swallows a curse.

“Sorry!” Tooru blurts. “I’m sorry, Suga-chan. I didn’t—shit, I got really caught up in the moment.” Tooru covers his face with his hands, unable to meet Suga’s eyes. “Can we forget that happened?”


	4. Team Swap

Tooru’s heart was in his throat, hands hiding his face as he waited for Suga to say something—hoping against hope he didn’t destroy their friendship by letting his little crush on his friend sweep him away in the moment.

_Can we forget that happened?_

Tooru bites his lip. He feels Suga’s hands on his wrists, thumbs gently stroking back and forth as he tries to pull them away from Tooru’s face.

“Oikawa,” Suga murmurs softly. “Oikawa, it’s okay. It’s not a big deal.”

Tooru gives in and lets Suga pull his hands away. He keeps his eyes down, body hunched over, too anxious to look up through his lashes and see the expression that must be on Suga’s face. He’s sure he probably looks pathetic, lacking all of his usual bravado and confidence.

“Oikawa,” Suga repeats, sounding mildly exasperated. He waits a beat and then sighs. “Okay, fine. Listen, it’s fine. If you want to…to forget about kissing—” Tooru flinches. “—then that’s what we’ll do. Whatever you need.”

Tooru’s stomach bottoms out. Suga is too kind a person, and Tooru doesn’t deserve him. He’s someone too selfish and self-centered. He is going to mess this up, in one way or another. He swallows, gathers the wherewithal to meet Suga’s eyes and looks up.

Suga’s smiling, but his eyes look guarded. Tooru’s used to how open and inviting Suga usually is. He chews on the inside of his cheek.

 _Is it really okay, Suga? When you look like there’s something you’re not saying_ , Tooru thinks.

Suga’s still got a hold on his wrists, rubbing soothing circles against Tooru’s pulse points. It feels so nice; he just wants to go back to five minutes ago when he was warm and comfortable laying close against Suga’s side. Tooru inhales slowly and pulls his hands out of Suga’s.

“Are you sure?” Tooru asks. He puts his hands in his lap and twists his fingers around in the sheets, winding them into clumps. “I don’t want to make it weird.”

“Of course. It’s not weird at all,” Suga says. He’s watching Tooru carefully, eyes flicking back and forth as Suga studies him. His voice is nothing more than a murmur—it’s almost as if they’re in a bubble inside Tooru’s bed, like the outside world is far away.

Suga’s hand reaches toward Tooru before he hesitates and curls his fingers into his palm instead. Suga lets his hand drop. Tooru holds onto the sheet twisted in his hand with a tight grip to keep himself from bridging the short distance and taking Suga’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” Tooru says again. Suga smiles at him, reassuring and gracious.

“I really like being friends with you. What just happened won’t change that. If it was just a mista—er—if it’s not what you want, then nothing has to change,” Suga says. He holds Tooru’s gaze for a few beats, eyes full of something Tooru can’t read for the first time since he’s known him. Suga breaks their gaze and turns his attention to the laptop, clearing his throat. “Let’s put on the next movie. Do you want to watch Dreamcatcher or Prometheus next?”

They rearrange themselves into comfortable positions, still side by side, still leaning comfortably on each other, but in none of the ways Tooru really wants. He’d rather have his legs tangled with Suga’s—sore knee be damned—and would rather be allowed to let his hands stray wherever he wants to explore when he throws one arm over Suga’s body, head practically pillowed on his chest. Tooru wants to be able to turn his head so his nose is pressed against Suga’s neck so he can inhale the way Suga smells—fresh from his shower, a hint of citrus from the soap he uses. It’s a scent that’s become synonymous with comfort to Tooru in the short span of time they’ve lived together in the dorm.

Tooru quickly loses track of the movie and lets his thoughts wander. He turns over how he feels for Suga, examining it from different angles. He goes over their interactions recently and tries to pinpoint when he slid from thinking of him as his friend to really liking him.

It’s hard to nail down; Tooru’s flirted with him from the beginning—even during that chance meeting in the rainstorm—because he can never turn that part of himself off. He was only partially serious, anyway. He never had any real intent behind it before. He’s always thought Suga was attractive, too, with his big brown eyes with specks of hazel that look like constellations, with his beatific smiles and the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he’s amused or happy. Then there’s the way Suga is around everyone—always cheering on his teammates and helping his friends study and all the little ways he takes care of Tooru and fills the gaps left by Iwaizumi’s absence. If he had messed this up, this friendship, Tooru doesn’t know what he would do. He’s so used to Suga now that he can’t imagine what it would be like if things were different—if they’d chosen different schools or weren’t thrown together as roommates or if Suga didn’t continue to pursue volleyball. He’s entwined into Tooru’s life now and Tooru doesn’t want that to change. Tooru swallows; _fuck_ he really likes Suga.

It’s still new and different from what Tooru’s ever known before, different from the girlfriend he had in high school or other girls he crushed on, different from how Iwa-chan was there and someone he knew so well. When they’d fooled around together it hadn’t changed their friendship at all; they loved each other but weren’t _in love_ with each other. It was something they both understood without having to say it, thanks to years and years of trust and friendship. It was just something that made sense, a natural progression from sharing a futon and casual touches to kissing and skin sliding against skin. It wasn’t often; it only happened a few times in the course of their friendship. It was comfortable—familiar.

With Suga it was _different_ , though. With Iwa-chan, Tooru was content with what they shared. With Suga it’s a different kind of hunger; it’s something that has coiled into a tight ball in the pit of Tooru’s stomach and feels like it could consume him if he lets it.

It’s unexplored territory that Tooru aches to discover, to map with kisses and touches, to be able to hold Suga’s hand and learn the exact meaning behind every smile, every look.

Tooru wants more with Suga than he’s ever wanted with anyone else he’s liked.

But he won’t get to have that with Suga, because they’re friends. And that’s all. He’ll need to get over this flood of awareness for Suga and forget the way Tooru feels for him.

*******

Tooru tries his best to go back to their usual routine before The Kiss, but he still can’t get it out of his head. It’s always on his mind, looming over him every time he’s near Suga. The shape of Suga’s mouth draws his attention whenever he looks at Suga.

At first he avoids Suga as much as possible. It goes on for a week like that. When their eyes meet, Tooru rushes to escape the dorm. He stays away as much as he can. The only times Tooru’s really been around Suga have been in practice and in their shared Psychology course, but at least there he has others to act as a buffer. It’s when they’re in the dorm that it’s the hardest to deal with.

When Suga returns from his lectures, Tooru can see Suga’s eyes don’t have quite the same gleam as they did before Tooru went and ruined it. Tooru feels miserable and guilty and he misses what they had.

Finally, Suga says something. It’s late and they’re alone in their dorm room. Suga’s been working on his assignments at his desk while Tooru crept around him, giving him a wide berth. Suga turns to watch Tooru and says with annoyance bleeding into his tone, “You don’t have to avoid me so much, you know. I thought we agreed nothing would change?”

Tooru fumbles the stack of books he was about to slip out of the dorm with, planning to seek solitude and Suga-free space in the library for a while, despite the hour. Guilt crashes over him and he feels heat creeping up the back of his neck. He’s such an asshole, he decides.

Tooru turns slowly to face Suga. He tries for an apologetic, sheepish smile, but the look on Suga’s face tells him it misses his mark. “Ah…I’m sorry, Suga-chan. I just—didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You were making me uncomfortable by acting like you can’t stand to be around me anymore. It’s not a very nice way to treat your friends,” Suga says mildly. He raises an eyebrow and shoots a pointed look in Tooru’s direction. “So cut it out, alright?”

Tooru nods, chastised. He strives to do better by his friend.

By the following week he’s able to stop flinching every time Suga walks in the room.

Only, now it’s like a switch has been turned on and Tooru can’t find it to shut it off again, no matter how many times he reminds himself that they’re just friends. Avoidance was easy because it separated him from what he wanted. He goes from avoiding his problem to never wanting to be anywhere but in Suga’s presence overnight.

He’s constantly aware of Suga’s every move at all times; it’s the worst when they’re alone in their room together. Suga’s effortlessly returned to relaxed smiles and joking around with him while Tooru suffers through the casual way Suga brushes his fingertips over Tooru’s arm. It never made him feel like this—feel _so much_ from such a small thing before. Now, his body burns with every bit of attention Suga gives him.

It’s not any different from how Suga treated him before, but he does look much happier than he did when Tooru was trying to avoid him.

Tooru ends up lost, unmoored and floating away because his mind is full of Suga, Suga, Suga. He’s familiar with the way Suga smells—citrus-fresh when he comes back from a shower, his pale skin tinged pink, and intoxicatingly musky when he’s sweaty from practice. Tooru’s distracted by the dimple that comes out when Suga smiles, by the way his brows pinch together and the small frown he makes when he’s studying, by the way his eyes gleam in practice when he gets to play in the game. He’s captivated by the mole near Suga’s eye that winks at him tauntingly, daring Tooru to kiss it.

Tooru dreams of Suga when he sleeps and attempts to limit how much he thinks about Suga when he’s awake. He tells himself he should give him space, that it’s not right for him to be greedy and soak up every minute of the day Suga will give him—it’s not _healthy_ he reasons with himself. His monkey-brain tells him to fuck off and he tags along everywhere Suga goes anyway.

Suga’s too nice to point out that Tooru has other friends he’s neglecting in order to hang out with Suga, but he doesn’t tell him to go away, either. Because Suga’s a kind friend; Tooru’s learned it’s just how he is, and he’s not above being a little selfish if it means he can pretend they’re closer than they are.

He even loses his grip on his sanity and secretly starts a series hashtagged _world’s most beautiful man_ on his Instagram stories, sneakily snapping photos and video clips when Suga’s being impossibly charming and sincere and god damn _beautiful_. His following grows and grows because of it.

If it wasn’t clear to him before, it’s crystal clear to him now: Tooru is a mess of a person.

He calls Iwa-chan, because he’s the only other person Tooru knows who can fix his problems. He needs advice and maybe just a little time to whine to his best friend about his pathetic crush on his other friend.

Suga’s in a biology lab and Tooru’s walking through one of the courtyards on campus when he digs his phone out of his pocket to call Iwaizumi. He huffs as he waits for Iwaizumi to pick up.

“Ossu, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi greets when he answers on the fifth ring.

“Iwa-chan!” Tooru tilts his head back and looks up at the tree branches he’s passing under. “What are you doing right now? Want to meet up and get curry with me?”

“I can’t right now, I’m on my way to practice,” Iwaizumi says. Tooru’s quiet for a minute, silently missing when everything was easy and he was the one walking to practice with Iwaizumi. “Are you still there?”

“I’m here, yeah,” Tooru says. He clears his throat and puts on a falsely cheerful voice. “I got our coach to get me a recording of one of your practice matches. You looked a little lost without me setting tosses for you, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi grunts on the line. “So what’s really wrong, then? You wouldn’t call if it wasn’t something bothering you.”

Tooru chuckles slightly and drops onto one of the benches that line the path to escape the July sun. “Ah, Iwa-chan. You really do know me too well, even when we’re so far apart.”

“It’s a fifteen minute walk and one train stop,” Iwaizumi corrects. He pauses and says something muffled to someone on his end of the line. Tooru can’t make out what they’re saying. “I don’t have a lot of time before I make it to the gym. You’ve got four minutes, tops, to tell me what’s got you all messed up in the head.”

A voice squawks in the background. “I want to meet your other friends! Is that the guy you were in high school with?” 

“Yes, it is—no, don’t—get out of my face, Bokuto, christ—” Iwaizumi grunts and sounds like he’s struggling with someone. Tooru’s mind runs through the roster for Iwaizumi’s team and realizes it’s the ace from Fukuroudani that received a scholarship.

“Hi! Hi?” Bokuto’s voice is loud in Tooru’s ear and he holds his phone away from his head for a second. “Are you there still?”

“Yes,” Tooru says slowly. “You’re one of Iwaizumi’s teammates, right?”

“Yeah! I’m Bokuto Koutarou, wing spiker,” Bokuto says to introduce himself. Tooru pictures him making sweeping gesture, jabbing his thumb into his chest.

“Oikawa Tooru,” he returns.

“We should all get together! Iwaizumi says you’re at one of the private unis near us. We have this Saturday off, so we challenge you to a friendly match!” Bokuto crows.

Tooru blinks; he can only imagine what he’s like in person. Tooru’s only ever seen him on TV and in the recordings he studies.

“You’ll come, right?” Bokuto asks when Tooru doesn’t say anything. Somehow, the dip in his tone into something almost sad makes Tooru want to say something to put him back to his boisterous mood from a second ago.

“Uh—yeah. Of course. _Obviously_ ,” Tooru says. He smirks and puts on an air of confident swagger. “We accept your challenge. Prepare for Chuo’s best and brightest to crush you.”

“Big talker! I like it.” Bokuto’s laughter filters through the phone speaker. “Okay, I think Iwaizumi might actually punch me if I don’t give him his phone back so bye! See you on Saturday!”

“Oikawa?” Iwaizumi asks when he has his phone again. Tooru hums in response. “Look, whatever it is, we can talk about it later. I have to go.”

“Okay,” Tooru says. “See you Saturday, then. We won’t go easy on you just because we’re friends, you know.”

“Save it, Assikawa,” Iwa-chan says. He pauses for a few beats and before Tooru can hang up he speaks again. “Hey. Don’t be an idiot, okay? Whatever’s bugging you…don’t—don’t throw yourself into hyper focus just to clear your head.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tooru says, gesturing with his hand even though Iwaizumi isn’t there to see it. “You don’t have to worry so much about me, Iwa-chan. Suga-chan takes care of me so you don’t have to anymore.”

Tooru says goodbye and ends the call. He sighs and texts Kuroo to see if he’s free to go for a run.

*******

On Saturday Tooru, Suga, and Kuroo venture off campus to meet up with Iwaizumi and his friends from Tokyo Metropolitan University. Suga’s attention is on his phone; Tooru peeks over his shoulder and sees his messenger app open on the screen.

Kuroo pokes Tooru in his side. Tooru holds back a sigh; he knows what’s coming. Kuroo hasn’t stopped laughing about it since he invited him the other day after their run. He finds the prospect of Tooru having to face off against his best friend after years of being lauded as partners on the court hilarious. Kuroo grins expectantly when Tooru looks over at him.

Tooru raises one eyebrow challengingly. Kuroo holds it in for a few seconds before he snorts and cracks up.

“I can’t help it,” Kuroo says, a little breathless. Suga reaches over and pats his shoulder.

“You know we’re scheduled to play them in our bracket when the official tournament starts, right?” Tooru points out. “We’re going to have to play against Iwaizumi’s team in an official match. It’s practically strategic to accept Bokuto-san’s challenge.” He pins Kuroo with a look full of competitiveness. “Don’t you want to see what secret tricks they’ve been working on?”

“You’re right. And I do love facing off against Bokuto,” Kuroo says, eyes glinting. “We keep a running tally and I’m winning right now. I don’t intend to break my streak now.”

“Wait. Didn’t Nekoma lose against Fukuroudani when you played against each other at your semifinals?” Suga asks, looking up from his phone.

Kuroo waves him off. “The Academy Group does another special training camp after the tournament circuit is over as a way to send off our graduating third years and welcome the kouhai’s advancement. Owls and cats were neck and neck.”

“Ah, I see,” Suga says. “How’s Kenma doing without you there now?”

Kuroo smirks and winks at Suga. Tooru fights the urge to bristle.

“Your little sun crow’s got him all fired up. Thank god he met Hinata, or I think he might’ve actually quit when I graduated,” Kuroo says.

“Hinata’s really good at that,” Suga says, voice full of fondness for Karasuno’s Shrimpy-chan. He shoots a sly look at Tooru and bumps his hip against him to throw Tooru’s steps out of sync. “Right?”

Tooru scoffs. “Tch. It was Tobio-chan that got under my skin and made me want to crush Karasuno, not Shrimpy-chan.”

Suga gives him a playful shove. “Oh, is that all? Come on, Oikawa. Are you still sore we knocked you out of the running for the finals?”

Tooru pulls a face, struggling against a wave of petulance. He shrugs. “We nearly beat you. It could’ve been different.”

Suga reaches out and tugs on his t-shirt, leaning up a little on his toes to reach Tooru’s ear. “Hey,” he says, giving another little pull. “Let’s beat Ushijima together.”

Tooru tilts his head to flick a look at Suga out of the corner of his eye. He should want Iwaizumi by his side on the court against Ushiwaka, but the last chapter of his high school volleyball career is over. This is his college career Suga’s talking about. He lets a slow grin spread across his face and nods.

They make it to the park where Tooru arranged to meet with Iwa-chan. It has a small building with public volleyball courts and it’s not far from either of their universities. Iwaizumi texted him yesterday to let him know he reserved one court for them just after lunch. They pass through the gate and turn in the direction of the gym at the back of the park. Iwaizumi’s already there with Bokuto jumping around and punching his fists in the air. It looks like he’s enthusiastically reenacting a volleyball play. Tooru’s unsurprised to see Bokuto and Iwaizumi are also accompanied by Karasuno’s ex-captain, Sawamura. His eyes flick over to Suga.

Suga lights up and jogs ahead of them. He calls out and waves. “Daichi!”

Tooru looks on as they embrace each other with easy familiarity. He smothers the lurch of jealousy and regret that sloshes in his stomach at the sight.

Kuroo claps Tooru on the shoulder. “You knew Daichi ended up at the same university as your friend and Bokuto, right? He told me about it.”

“Close with all of the Karasuno alumni, are you?” Tooru asks, trying to keep the dramatics tamed for once.

“Wait,” he peers curiously at Tooru. “Did you not have contact with other captains in high school? I know you and I were in different prefectures, but you didn’t even talk to the ones in your own district? I figured since you seemed to know Suga so well at the start of the semester that you were in touch with the other players.”

“We didn’t all sit around with the other teams in our prefectures and sing campfire songs and do team building exercises at special camps.” Tooru shoots him an annoyed look and waves him off. “The only other captain I spent any amount of time talking to was Ushiwaka and that was only long enough to assure him I would win against him.”

Kuroo holds up his hands in apology, reaching out after a second to make an attack on Tooru’s hair. Tooru makes a strangled sound and ducks away from Kuroo, jogging the last few meters to Iwa-chan’s side.

“Oya oya~,” Bokuto chants at Kuroo, holding out a fist for a bump. “What’s going on, man?”

“Hey bird boy,” Kuroo says to Bokuto, meeting Bokuto’s fist with his own and launching into a complicated looking handshake routine. He turns to Sawamura and give him a high five. “And hello, other bird boy.”

“Hey there, Kuroo,” Sawamura says with a warm, open expression. “Good to see you.”

They all exchange greetings and spend a few minutes catching up. Tooru sticks by Iwa-chan’s side after introducing himself to Bokuto, who’d practically tackled Tooru in his excitement to meet him. While the others are distracted with each other, Iwaizumi turns to Tooru.

“So, what did you want to talk about on the phone the other day?” Iwaizumi asks.

Tooru crosses his arms and deflects. “How much I missed you, of course.”

“Stop that. You were upset; tell me what it’s about,” Iwa-chan insists, reaching out to poke him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tooru turns his head away and watches Suga laughing with Sawamura, touching his arm in the same casual way he always touches Tooru. He digs his fingers into his arms.

“Are you having problems with your roommate?” Iwaizumi asks cautiously, glancing from Tooru to Suga and back again.

“It’s fine. It’s nothing, Iwa-chan,” Tooru grumbles. He scrubs a hand over his face and pushes his hair back. “I just want to play some volleyball.”

He steps away from Iwaizumi’s side and claps his hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Are we ready?” Tooru asks, making a sweeping gesture toward the entrance to the gym building. “There’s no point in putting off defeat any longer.”

Bokuto makes a gleeful expression and whoops. He slaps Tooru so hard across the back as they enter the gym that Tooru actually stumbles, loosing his breath for a second.

“I like him, Iwaizumi,” Bokuto says. “He’s just like you said.”

“Aww, you talk about me, Iwa-chan?” Tooru coos. He yelps and dodges when Iwaizumi makes a grab for Tooru like he’s going to punch him. “Always with the violence.”

“So how should we do this?” Suga asks. He sets his bag down against the wall and pulls out his volleyball trainers.

“We’ve got enough for three on three,” Sawamura suggests. “Let’s do Suga, Kuroo, and Iwaizumi on one team and Bokuto and Oikawa with me.”

Everyone makes varying sounds of agreement. It’s easy for Tooru to see why Sawamura was a good leader for Karasuno. There’s something about his aura that exudes captaincy; everything about him makes a person want to follow him. It’s not difficult to see why he’s such good friends with Suga, either.

Tooru points at his uni mates and his childhood best friend, posing in an over the top stance. “Are you three ready to lose?”

“Oh _yeah_ ,” Bokuto chimes in, his excitement growing exponentially. “Let’s do this!”

“Don’t be so sure you’ll win against us, Oikawa,” Suga says with a wink that doesn’t quite work out, both eyes blinking closed instead of just one. It’s…it’s adorable and Tooru aches a bit with affection. He tightens his grip on his gym bag as Suga sidles over to him. “I’ve got your ace and our crafty middle blocker.”

“Well, I’ve got an ace of my own, too,” Tooru shoots back, jerking his thumb in Bokuto’s direction where he and Sawamura are starting stretches. “ _And_ your old captain. Don’t underestimate what I can do with two players like that. I know how good Sawamura is at defense—especially against Iwa-chan.” Tooru smirks playfully and takes a step closer to accentuate the height difference between them. Suga has to tip his head back a little to keep their gazes locked. “Don’t loose your cool, Refreshing-kun.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Suga murmurs.

The gym around them seems to melt away and the world narrows down to just Tooru and Suga. Tooru’s eyes flicker down to Suga’s lips and he knows Suga notices when he meets his eyes again. Tooru wants more than anything to close the small distance between them and kiss him.

“Oi, are we playing or what?” Bokuto calls loudly. “Come stretch with us!”

They both jump and look in Bokuto’s direction. Sawamura waves them over and Suga glances back at Tooru with a tiny smile before he jogs over, trainers squeaking against the court. Tooru’s feels the tug to follow close behind in his whole body.

After stretching and a brief warm up, they take their positions on the court and start the first set. Suga serves for his team and Sawamura receives it easily.

Tooru hasn’t had too much time to talk to Bokuto to ask how he likes his tosses, but he goes for a height he’s seen him attack with vigor from recordings. Bokuto laughs when he jumps up to spike it, his hand smacking against the ball.

Kuroo has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face when he manages a perfect kill-block against Bokuto’s attack and Bokuto groans good-naturedly.

“You crafty little shit,” Bokuto says affectionately.

“You know you love it,” Kuroo croons with a cheeky smile.

“Don’t mind!” Sawamura says, chuckling at their antics.

The ball volleys back and forth across the net, both teams switching back and forth between defense and offense with practiced ease, their muscle memory kicking in as the ball moves faster and faster. At last, Suga’s team earns a point when Iwa-chan sends a fierce spike over the net that’s too fast for Tooru to receive. Suga shoots a triumphant look in Tooru’s direction and gives Iwa-chan a high five.

“Nice one, Iwaizumi!” Suga praises.

Tooru wipes the back of his hand against his chin and turns to Bokuto as they change formation to receive a serve.

“Tell me how you like it, Bo-chan,” Tooru tells him. Bokuto lights up like a festival stand at the nickname and Tooru grins a little wider. “I’ll send you a good one so we can get it back.”

“High and to the left,” Bokuto says. “I’ll hit anything you toss me.”

On the next serve, Tooru finds himself a little distracted watching Sawamura’s form as he moves into his receives. His shorts ride high on his legs, hugging his strong thighs as they flex with each shift of his body to keep the ball up, keep it connected in play. Tooru admires how reliable his defensive plays are and is glad they’re on his side for once.

He turns his attention back to the game and finds himself facing off on opposite sides of the net as Iwa-chan for the first time ever.

The others are making calls in the background and Tooru can hear the volleyball connecting with hands and arms. He meets Iwa-chan’s eyes and knows in an instant he understands what Tooru’s feeling in that moment.

Tooru shakes his head and twists his body, leaping up to set the ball. At the last second his eyes fly around to Bokuto and Sawamura’s positions and gauges where the others are on the other team. He waits until the last possible moment and then— _now_ —releases the ball in a setter dump.

The sound of the ball hitting the court mingled with Suga and Kuroo’s strangled cries of frustration are music to Tooru’s ears.

He smirks and waves his fingers at his uni teammates.

“Come on, you guys. That one was totally predictable,” Tooru says to goad them. “Are you losing your observational skills already, Suga-chan?”

Suga’s face is set in a determined expression.

“Don’t mind, don’t mind!” he calls to Iwaizumi and Kuroo. He motions them over with his signature hand wave and whispers to them.

Tooru narrows his eyes. When they’re ready, Tooru takes a breath and serves one of his wicked jump serves, aiming for Suga. He knows Suga’s not great at receiving Tooru’s trickiest serve and he’s banking on it to earn his team another point. It also means Suga won’t be able to set the ball if he does manage to receive it first, so either way it’s a good strategic move for Tooru’s team.

Iwa-chan steps into position to receive the ball and Suga slips around him to set up a quick attack. Tooru curses and runs forward to help Bokuto block, but they’re faked out and Sawamura isn’t there to receive it.

Tooru looks at the spot where the feint from Kuroo came down and then at Suga, who’s all smiles. He grits his teeth.

Suga’s team makes another point, and then another. They build up a rhythm that Tooru and his teammates can’t seem to break. He gnashes his teeth together and tries to figure something out.

It’s more jarring than he thought it would be to play on the other side of the net as Iwa-chan—especially watching Suga slip easily into being Refreshing-kun, someone who easily lifts up his teammates no matter what and effortlessly figures out how to turn the tide.

He spends a minute pondering his options and then he snaps his fingers, turning to Sawamura and Bokuto with an idea. It might’ve thrown his game off at first, but Tooru’s played on the same team with Suga and Kuroo for a while now. He’s learning more about Suga’s playing style and how his mind works as a setter every day. It’s easier to read him now than it was when they played against each other in high school. He tells Sawamura and Bokuto his plan for a counter attack to what he guesses will be Suga’s next play. Sawamura agrees with him, adding his own knowledge of Suga’s strategies to the mix, reminding Tooru of Suga’s hand signals instead of verbal cues for his attack formations.

The game continues on and when Kuroo serves, Sawamura picks it up and sets them up for Tooru’s planned counter attack. He reflects as he sets the ball with both Sawamura and Bokuto running at full speed toward the net that it helps to have them on his side, both of them are forces to be reckoned with. Tooru’s eyes slide over to Suga’s position and it’s like the game slows down into slow motion for a few blissful seconds. Their eyes meet and Suga sends him a challenging grin, eyes sparkling.

The ball leaves Tooru’s fingertips and seconds later he hears a fake out where the block is and a loud battle cry before the ball crashes into the floor with a powerful echo in the gym.

“Yeah!” Sawamura shouts. “Good play, Oikawa!”

“Nice kill!” Tooru calls, eyes seeking out Suga once more to see his reaction. He watches Suga retrieve the ball from where it rolled into the corner of the gym.

Tooru goes to move into his next position on the court. Bokuto passes by him and gives him a look.

“Were you even watching, or did you just hear the ball hit the court? You seem a little more focused on other stuff,” Bokuto says in a low voice. His eyes flick over in Suga’s direction and then back at Tooru. “Are you and Suga, like…?”

Bokuto makes a vague motion with his hands and Tooru nearly stumbles back a step, a little surprised that out of all of the players present it’s Bokuto that has the perception to pick up on Tooru’s underlying little problem—mid-play, too. Bokuto must have sharp eyes, he decides, a little unsettled that he lets everyone be fooled by his big personality and goofy demeanor.

“I—it’s not—we’re just friends, I assure you,” Tooru says in a harried whisper. He bites down on his tongue. He’s annoyed with himself for getting so flustered over it.

“Oh, I see,” Bokuto says, nodding with a cryptic hum. Tooru blinks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tooru demands, gripping Bokuto’s shirt.

“Nothing, dude—relax. I just meant that I get it,” Bokuto assures him. He smiles sympathetically. “I’ve been there.”

“Are you two done gossiping, or are we going to finish this?” Kuroo calls. “Let’s play!”

Bokuto bumps his fist against Tooru’s shoulder. “Hang in there, buddy.”

Before Tooru can answer Bokuto jogs away from him and launches into a taunting match with Kuroo.

Tooru glances over at Suga and swallows. He uses the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away his sweat and it musses up his hair so that it sticks up at odd angles. His eyes are bright with the challenge of game strategies and the thrill of playing against a good team.

He’s beautiful.

Tooru’s fondness for him expands in his chest, filling in all the cracks and crevices until he’s consumed with his feelings for Suga. He swallows once more and gets his head back in the game, calling out for one more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations** :  
>  _Ossu_ \- What's up, hey dude; informal slang for hello


	5. Teacher

“Alright everyone, ten minute break to cool down. Grab a drink and huddle up for a team meeting before I let you leave for the day,” Coach Kobayashi calls to signal the end of practice.

Suga reaches the bench first and hands Tooru’s sport drink to him as he tips his head back to drink from his own bottle. Tooru’s momentarily distracted by the long column of Suga’s throat, bobbing as he takes deep gulps and glistening with a sheen of sweat. A towel hits him in the face and Tooru scrambles to grab it and pull it away just in time to see Kuroo smirking at him from behind Suga. Tooru narrows his eyes and flings it back, accidentally smacking Suga with the towel instead.

“Ah—oops, sorry Suga-chan,” Tooru says sheepishly, holding up his hands palms. “I meant to hit Kuroo-chan with that.”

“Oh yeah? Your aim’s off,” Suga says, eyes glinting. He sets down his sport bottle and twirls the towel.

It dawns on Tooru a second too late what’s about to happen and he falls back a step, almost tripping over his gym bag.

“Suga-chan—ah—wai—” Tooru babbles in a placating tone, waving his hands out in front of him for protection as Suga advances on him like a jungle cat on the prowl, clever setter hands flicking the towel with precision. “This is—this is—uh… wait, no!”

Suga lets a bubble of laughter loose before he darts forward to attack, chasing Tooru around the bench and dodging other first and second year players without drawing the attention of the coach while he’s distracted.

“I’m coming for you, Oikawa,” Suga taunts in a sing-song. “You can’t escape me.”

Tooru tosses a look back over his shoulder and yelps when the towel smacks him in the ass, making him leap into the air and slide to a halt behind Kuroo for safety.

Kuroo is cracking up and keeps trying to sidestep Tooru to present him as juicy prey for Suga to devour.

“Kuroo-chan, you’re a damn traitor! This is—ack! All your—no-o! _Fault_!” Tooru cries as he avoids Suga’s towel snapping at him while simultaneously trying to climb up Kuroo’s back to keep Kuroo from holding him in place as an easy target. “Suga-chan, you—hey, hey, not fair! You—arg, god damn it, _give me that_!”

He rounds on Suga and makes a lightning-quick grab for the towel and clenches it in his grip, tugging hard to drag Suga within close range so he can’t keep up the game. Suga trips over his own two feet and collides into Tooru’s chest with a muffled _oof_ , releasing his hold on the towel and clinging to Tooru’s shirt instead. They nearly topple over, but Tooru manages to get his arms around Suga’s waist and steady them before they lose their balance.

Suga is all warmth against his chest and his snickering laughter is full of mischief, puffing over Tooru’s sweaty skin and making him shiver. His fingers are still gripping Tooru’s shirt. Tooru can’t help but give into the desire to give Suga a brief squeeze, hugging him closer for a second; he knows it’s just his overactive imagination that feels Suga’s fingers tightening and his face pressing closer into Tooru’s neck before he lets go and steps back, eyes skittering away from Suga so he can maintain the illusion that Suga really was hugging him for a little longer.

Tooru coughs and bends down to pick up the discarded towel.

“Don’t get any ideas, or I’ll plan a sneak attack on you when you least expect it for revenge,” Suga says as he steps around Tooru to pick up his sport drink from the bench again. He shoots a grin over his shoulder. “You’ll never see me coming.”

“You won’t get close. Try all you want. I’ll keep my guard up like a hawk,” Tooru counters, making to snap the towel in his hands in Suga’s direction. “I won’t lose to you, Suga-chan!”

Suga slips out of reach easily, smirking at Tooru.

“Let’s go, the senpais are already gathered by Coach,” Kuroo says, nudging both of them. “I am not running extra laps today because you two egg each other on too much.”

“You started it,” Tooru mutters, allowing himself to be steered over to where the team is gathering for their meeting.

“And I’m finishing it,” Kuroo says under his breath. “Before you and Suga really get into it and forget the rest of us are here again, like last week.”

Kuroo looks at Tooru pointedly. Tooru glances away, trying not to think of last week, when he and Suga were taunting each other for a little friendly competition on opposite practice teams.

They’d ended up a breath away from wrestling right there on the court—in the middle of practice—before one of the assistant coaches told them to go run suicide drills. Suga-chan knew what to say to get under Tooru’s skin, and between his competitive nature and how much the fire in Suga’s eyes made something twist in Tooru’s gut he wasn’t able to back down from the challenge.

They take their seats for the team meeting and listen to the coach go over their match schedule. He holds up a stack of pamphlets at the end of the meeting.

“These are for volunteer work,” Coach Kobayashi explains. “The university recommends taking the opportunity if your schedule allows for it. It’s something that will look good on your resumes and you’ll be doing good work.”

He hands off the pamphlets to one of the assistant coaches to pass out. Tooru looks down at his copy and turns it over to read as Coach Kobayashi continues on.

“All of the local universities participate in this program throughout the year for a one week training camp for younger athletes. Sign up forms will be available throughout the week.”

After they’re dismissed, the team stands and mills around, gathering bags and cleaning the gym as a group. Tooru catches up with Suga by the door.

“Are you going to sign up for this volunteer program?” Tooru asks.

“I was thinking about it, yeah,” Suga says. He gestures toward the sign up form the coach has tacked to the bulletin board on the wall. “It’s after my exams are over, so I’ll have the time. Will you do it, too?”

Tooru looks over the sign up form. A few names are already jotted down for the different age brackets the program splits the younger athletes into. His mouth quirks into a lopsided smile; he thinks of his nephew Takeru and the days he spent off from practice volunteering as a coach. Tooru picks up the pen attached to the board with a string and writes his name.

“Yep,” he says. He offers the pen to Suga. “I volunteered in high school. My nephew was in the Lil Tykes Volleyball Classroom and I helped out.”

Suga takes the pen and fills in his name below Tooru’s on the form. They both select the middle school age bracket. They leave the gym together, emerging into the pale light of late fall. Tooru brings up a hand to shield his eyes and bumps his hip against Suga’s.

“I’m the one with experience in this arena, so of course I will be the more superior coach,” he drawls as they head in the direction of their dorm building.

“Volunteer,” Suga corrects, bumping Tooru back.

Tooru leans over into Suga’s space with a big grin. “I’ll definitely beat you in this, Suga-chan! I’ll be the best _volunteer_ coach ever for the future of volleyball. And when I win, I’d like—”

Suga cuts him off with a chuckle and a friendly shove before Tooru has a chance to name his prize.

“We’ll be there to help teach the kids, not show off how your competitive streak edges too close to unsportsmanlike behavior when you get petty and make it personal,” Suga says, reaching out to prod Tooru in the side.

Tooru grunts and rubs his ribs. Suga’s always jabbing him without realizing his own strength, even when he’s trying to be gentle. It’s Suga’s own brand of tough love, used as a reminder to be positive when Tooru’s tied up in his head or to let him know when he needs to reel himself back in. Tooru’s seen him do it with Kuroo and Daichi, too, when they all hang out together.

“Quit ruining my fun. I’ll have the kids in my group praising my prowess as their coach before the first day is even over,” Tooru declares, brimming with confidence.

“You _are_ good at cultivating your royal subjects, oh Great King,” Suga teases, sweeping into a bow with a grand hand gesture in a mockery of simpering subservience.

Tooru swats at him with intent to mess up his hair. “I’ll have you know I’m _wonderful_ with kids—they adore me.”

“Uh huh, sure,” Suga says, humming. “I can’t wait to see how quickly you run to me because you get into it with twelve year olds.”

“Hah, I’ll have you eating your words, Suga-chan, just you wait,” Tooru says.

Suga doesn’t say anything, but there’s a shining gleam in his eyes when Tooru looks at him. They continue down the path to building three in companionable silence.

A gust of chilly wind blows by them and Suga burrows his nose into his athletic jacket and huddles closer to Tooru to block the wind. Tooru welcomes it, even if he has to suffer the bite of the wind as an excuse to enjoy a moment of closeness with Suga.

Their fall semester is quickly drawing to a close and soon they’ll have a couple of weeks off for winter break.

“Will you go home after the volunteer thing or stay on campus?” Tooru asks.

He fishes his phone out of a pocket in his gym bag to pull up the calendar. He adds in the dates for the training camp to block it off on his schedule. The following week is already highlighted with an event reminder, when Tooru plans to take the train home to spend the holidays with his family.

Suga hums in acknowledgement. “Yeah. Did you buy train tickets yet? We could go to the station and book them together, if you want.”

“That sounds good,” Tooru agrees, a pleasant zing charging through him at the thought of traveling home to Miyagi with Suga by his side.

He gets lost momentarily in a vivid fantasy where Suga’s more than just his roommate and he’s taking him home to introduce him to his parents. They’d hold hands and Tooru’s mom would be charmed by the nervous way Suga would try to fix his cowlick.

“What’s that dopey smile for?” Suga asks, tugging Tooru out of his reverie.

“Ah, nothing,” Tooru says with an awkward cough. “Just, uh…pork buns. Thinking about post-practice pork buns.

Suga lights up a little brighter. “Yes! Let’s go get some. Right now, okay? Come on, come on, come on, you slowpoke.”

“Alright, alright,” Tooru agrees as Suga pushes his palms against Tooru’s arm to redirect them. “If anything, though, I’m clearly _at least_ a Slowbro, if not the even more obvious Slowking evolution.”

Suga laughs and practically drags Tooru in his enthusiasm for their favorite post-practice snack.

*******

Much to his dismay, the kids in his and Suga’s middle school group do _not_ immediately flock to him on the first day, or recognize him as a superior volleyball maven. In fact, this set of pre-teens seem entirely too charmed by Suga—not that Tooru can blame them, really—and immediately sense Suga as Tooru’s weakness like little predators scenting blood in the water. Tooru tries to endear himself to them by showing off all of his best tricks, including his most vicious jump serve with pinpoint accuracy, but still they trail after Suga with requests for him to show them how to receive again.

By the late afternoon break, he’s leaning heavily on Suga’s shoulders to soak up some of his positive, easy-going energy.

“I take it all back, children are gremlins,” Tooru groans, voice muffled where his face is buried in Suga’s shoulder.

Suga chuckles and pats him comfortingly. “If you pay attention to what our Psychology course has been teaching, then you’d have some more ideas for how to talk to them.”

“My nephew’s class was never this hard,” Tooru complains. “They really did love me. I was super cool. They got a kick out of my jump serve.”

“Mm, I actually thought that would work, but maybe it’s too intimidating because you’re a university student now instead of a high school student. You seem too far out of their reach,” Suga says, shifting so Tooru’s nose isn’t digging into his shoulder. “They probably think they’ll never be able to reach your skill level.”

“I think they’re all just jealous because they’ve like…imprinted on you,” Tooru says. “It’s like they’re all suffering an oedipal complex and are protecting you as their claimed territory.”

Suga snorts and curls his body closer to Tooru on the bench they’re sitting on while they wait for their group of kids to return from their snack break.

“I’m not their mother goose,” Suga protests, unimpressed. “I was just nice to them and didn’t treat them like they were all babies.”

“You’re just that easy to fall in love with. Can’t be helped, I guess,” Tooru laments with dramatic flare so that Suga doesn’t pick up on the underlying, vulnerable truth to his words.

Suga hums, but doesn’t say anything else in response. He takes a deep breath and taps Tooru’s thigh.

“Come on, up,” Suga says, pressing against Tooru to encourage him to move. “We’ve got an hour left with them today.”

“Okay. Let’s finish off with receiving practice for half of it and then we can have a little contest for them so they end on something fun.”

They go back into the gym they’ve been assigned to work in just as their group of kids returns. 

The second day goes smoother for Tooru when the kids begin to warm up to him. They become more receptive to his coaching when he teaches them how to spike and they hold a contest for who can jump the highest. Suga keeps shooting Tooru soft looks from across the gym, their group split in two so the kids can rotate through learning different techniques. Tooru thinks he looks great, laughter bubbling out of him as kids bicker with each other for Suga’s attention. The best part is watching Suga’s pleased smile when one of the kids from the group he’s working with gets something right and practically explodes with triumph.

“Huddle up, guys!” Tooru calls halfway through the third day. “Today Suga-kun and I are going to show you the different types of attacks—or plays—you can do as a setter. We both play the setter position for our team at Chuo University here in Tokyo.”

The kids all line up along the sideline and plop down into comfortable positions to watch. Tooru and Suga adjust the net back to regulation height instead of the lowered height for the middle school kids.

“That’s so tall,” one of the kids says.

“After junior high the nets are at this height,” Suga explains.

“You know what else gets taller? You do,” Tooru says. “And if you practice your jumps, then nothing will be able to stop you.”

Suga goes to retrieve a volleyball from the basket at the edge of the court and jogs over to where Tooru’s standing. Suga hands Tooru the ball and their fingers brush.

“Watch closely,” Tooru calls to the kids after clearing his throat.

He waits until Suga is in position before throwing the ball in his direction. Suga receives it and hits it back to Tooru to set for him. He sprints forward and tugs at Tooru’s attention; he looks graceful and fierce when he attacks, eyes flashing with the challenge, ready for anything. _There you are, Refreshing-kun_ , Tooru thinks, smirking to himself. He waits a beat and then sets the ball for Suga.

Tooru bites back a smug grin at the collective gasp from their group as Suga leaps up and attacks the ball with force, spiking it hard. It’s something they’ve been working on in team practice and in their free time—both of them have been working on improving their offensive attacks so that they’re more versatile players. Suga’s shaping up to be an excellent contender for the team’s next official decoy and Tooru wants to make sure he gets to play as Suga’s setter. He’s sure if they keep refining themselves like this they could be unstoppable as an interchangeable team—both of their setter backgrounds giving them an edge to switch back and forth on the court to set and attack at the drop of a hat.

Suga holds up a hand for a high five as he sidles over to Tooru’s side, satisfied expression making him glow with success. Tooru knows how much he’s growing to love being able to attack. It’s their secret weapon—all Suga’s idea and Tooru’s diligent analysis to make it grow into a double-whammy attack play. They have yet to debut it in an official match, and Tooru and Suga are both chomping at the bit to unveil it, just to see the looks on their opponents’ faces.

The kids on the sideline are clapping and tripping over each other to swarm Suga and Tooru.

“So cool! Suga-senpai you were like _whoosh-pow_!”

“It was so fast!”

“That,” Tooru announces in an instructive tone, holding up a finger. “Was a basic quick attack. There are lots of combinations and types. Today we’re going to keep practicing your spikes and work up to being able to set for your teammate to spike. Line up for the practice drill while we re-adjust the net.”

Tooru turns to Suga as he’s fiddling with the net.

“If we had enough of our teammates here we could show them our _real_ attacks we’ve been practicing,” he says.

“You just want to show off some more,” Suga says with a playful edge to his voice. “Should I start calling you Narcissist-kun?”

Tooru gasps, mock-hurt. “Suga-chan, you’d never! That’s not very nice.”

“You forget,” Suga murmurs, corners of his mouth curling up. He throws a quick glance at the kids and inches closer to Tooru to speak under his breath, his voice like golden honey. “I’m not the nice one. I’m the hot one, remember? Maybe you’re just making me jealous by being so self-obsessed all the time.”

“Oh, are you feeling neglected?” Tooru asks. His voice has dropped low and his hand comes up to hover over Suga’s shoulder like he’s about to cup Suga’s face, just barely keeping distance between them. He wants to close the distance and trace his thumb over Suga’s cheek. He plucks at the collar of Suga’s unzipped track jacket and smooths his hand down his arm instead, pretending to dust away lint. “I’m terribly sorry. Do let me know what I can do to rectify this immediately. I’m at your mercy.”

“Senpai!”

Tooru jolts and quickly steps back from his close proximity with Suga, running a hand through his hair. He peeks back at Suga and is pleased to see the pink tinge in his cheeks. Suga’s eyes meet his for a beat and then he calls their group to attention, falling back into coaching them through the drill.

The rest of the week follows a similar pattern of teaching the kids interspersed with flirtatious jibes from Suga and Tooru surreptitiously checking him out. By the end of the camp he’s a little drained, but he’s gratified at the way each kid smiles brighter, bumping fists with Tooru and wanting to show off their own versions of his moves.

They say their goodbyes and promise to cheer for their teams. Two of the kids even give Tooru a package of milk bread as a thank you gift and Tooru bites his tongue to keep himself from getting sappy over it.

Suga’s the one who finally drags Tooru away from the camp after the final volunteer meeting to issue their certificates of participation signed by the program’s director.

“Want to go out for lunch before we have to collect our bags from the dorm?” Suga asks. “We’ve got time before we have to be at the station later to catch our train.”

“Only if you promise I don’t have to eat your seventh circle of hell death dish,” Tooru says, squinting at Suga. “My tastebuds _died_ last time you made me try that mapo tofu.”

“Oh come on, it’s not _that_ spicy,” Suga says, but he can’t hide the way he’s grinning. He reaches up to tuck some of his hair behind his ear and shrugs. “You were just being dramatic.”

“I was not,” Tooru says firmly. He squints suspiciously at Suga. “And if you can eat that with such a straight face, then it’s clear the answer is that you’re obviously dead inside and I’ve just been hanging out with your ghost this whole time.”

They continue to bicker over the levels of spice a living human can handle all the way to the bus stop. The entire time, Tooru resists reaching out to hold Suga’s hand.

*******

The ride home to Sendai’s station takes a little over an hour on the Hayate line with the reserved seat tickets they purchased. When it’s time, they board and find their car, tucking their luggage on the shelf overhead.

Suga slides into the seat closest to the window and Tooru has half a mind to bicker with him about it, but the way Suga tips his head back against the headrest and peers out the window makes Tooru brush it off with a private smile.

He takes his seat next to Suga and fiddles with a brain teaser app on his phone, trying to puzzle out how to beat the level of Monument Valley he’s on. He attempts two different approaches that are futile, then Suga’s hand comes into view and taps at a different part of the puzzle.

“Try moving this part,” he suggests.

Tooru wasn’t aware Suga was watching him play.

He tips his head to look at Suga out of the corner of his eyes. Suga’s head is lolling in his direction and he looks like he does late at night in their dorm room—drowsy and on the soft edges of sleep. Tooru’s pretty sure Suga will end up napping on the ride to Miyagi. His eyelids seem to be heavy as he blinks, attention on Tooru’s phone screen. He hums quietly and taps his finger on Tooru’s phone screen again.

“Alright, alright,” Tooru says. “Pushy. What if I wanted to solve it on my own, huh?”

“Teammates. Working together,” Suga murmurs, his head drooping closer to Tooru’s shoulder.

Tooru bites his lip; he rarely gets to see this drowsy version of Suga up close. Usually, he’s across the room or Suga’s wrapped in blankets on his top bunk. Suga’s cheek rests on Tooru’s shoulder and he watches as Tooru unlocks a new section of the puzzle. It’s a comfortable weight and Tooru doesn’t want to fidget so Suga stays there.

“Thanks,” Tooru says.

Suga hums and closes his eyes and soon after Tooru hears him snoring softly.

The other passengers fill in the seats around them in their train car and eventually they leave the station on their way to Sendai. Tooru beats two more levels in the first twenty minutes while Suga sleeps. Tooru’s working on the next puzzle in his game when Suga makes a sound in the back of his throat and sits up with a faint groan.

“Ugh, I needed that nap,” Suga says, voice raspy. He scrubs a hand over his face and shifts in his seat so that he’s no longer resting against Tooru’s side. Tooru hides a small frown at how the warmth gets sucked away by Suga moving.

“We were up early,” Tooru says. “And had to train twelve year olds all week.”

“More exhausting than my final exams,” Suga says, chuckling. He brushes his fingers through his fringe and glances out the window. “How far’d we get.”

“Almost halfway,” Tooru answers, flicking a look at the scenery passing by their window.

They’re both quiet for several minutes, surrounded by the murmur from other passengers and the hum of the train. Tooru surreptitiously studies Suga in his peripheral vision, admiring the curve of his shoulders and the slope of his nose in profile while Suga takes in the mountain view.

Suddenly, Suga turns to face him with a slightly anxious expression.

“Oikawa,” Suga starts. His fingers squeeze the armrest between their seats. “Would you like to get together during the break?”

Tooru’s heart skips a beat before he gets a hold of himself, realizing that Suga wasn’t _confessing to him_ —he was just asking to hang out. As friends. Because that’s what the two of them are. Friends.

Tooru tilts his head in Suga’s direction and pastes on a smug expression. “What, miss me already, Suga-chan? We haven’t even arrived in Sendai yet.”

“Something like that,” Suga says, eyes darting away when Tooru tries to catch his gaze.

“Well, text me when you want to hang out then, or something,” Tooru offers. He smirks and leans toward Suga. “We could go for a run at the park we met at.”

“We run together all the time,” Suga says, making an impatient gesture with his hand that he picked up from Tooru. “Let’s do something else. Something nice.”

“Nice,” Tooru repeats. In his head, images flick by of Suga and Tooru dressed up, out to dinner, a _date_.

“Yeah,” Suga says. “It’ll be fun.”

Tooru makes an approximation of a sound in agreement and tugs on his earlobe. The words _nice_ and _date_ keep flashing in his head and he _wants_ that to be what Suga’s proposing. He wants to take Suga out, to see what outfit Tooru would pick out to wear just for him, to treat him to something special. He swallows and digs around in his coat pocket for his headphones, plugging them into his phone. He pulls up a playlist and shuts everything out for the last twenty minutes of the train ride while Suga goes back to looking out the window with a more relaxed expression.

The station is bustling when their train pulls in and they both get swept up in grabbing their belongings, checking their phones and following the flow of people into the main part of Sendai Station. Tooru needs to catch the subway line to get home and Suga told him before he’d be taking the bus. He’s so wrapped up in navigating them in the direction he needs to go that he pulls up short when Suga starts to walk away from him.

“Where are you—oh,” Tooru says, heat running up the back of his neck. “Right. Um.”

“You locked away in that head of yours again?” Suga asks.

Suga looks at him; his eyes are full of fondness, tender and soft around the edges and it hits Tooru that they’re actually going to be apart for a week. He swallows and looks away for a second to collect himself. Suga will never let him live it down if he gets emotional here, now—in the middle of Sendai Station with people bustling around them. _You’re being a creepy idiot, Shittykawa_ , the Iwa-chan in his head chastises. Tooru laughs under his breath, an embarrassed breathy chuckle. He shakes his head.

“Have a good break. I’ll text you. See you before you know it,” Suga says, tipping his head to the side and smiling. His mole winks at Tooru and he has to fight down the urge to wrap Suga up in a hug, to be near him for just a little longer.

He knows he’s being completely ridiculous, a total disaster, as Iwaizumi likes to say.

“Yeah,” Tooru says, voice a little rough—though, thankfully, Suga doesn’t seem to notice. “You too. We’ll…we’ll hang out.”

Suga turns to go and Tooru darts out a hand to hold onto Suga for a moment longer, ignoring the rapid beat of his heart and the rush in his ears. Suga looks up at him. He soothes him by rubbing his thumb over Tooru’s knuckles.

“I’ll text you from the bus, okay?” Suga’s eyes flick back and forth as he waits for an answer.

Tooru clears his throat and nods. “Bye, Suga-chan.”

“Later, Oikawa.” Suga waves and Tooru watches him slip into the crowd in the direction of the buses.

He waits until he can’t see Suga anymore before turning back the way he was heading before. His shoulders feel heavier, the strain of the long day finally weighing down on him. _At least the term is over_ , Tooru thinks. His eyes snag on a small convenience stand and decides he needs something to eat. There’s no milk bread, but he does pick out juice and Crunky chocolate bites. He checks the subway schedule from an app on his phone and decides he’s got enough time to sit in the main station before heading down to the subway.

Tooru finds a bench and sets his bag at his feet. He opens Snapchat on his phone as he sips his juice and swipes to the camera. He poses with his treats and throws a decidedly pouty look into his phone camera. He deletes the snap and takes two more before he’s satisfied. He quickly swipes on the screen for a filter on his puppy-ear-selfie and types out a caption— _bet you miss all this magnificence [alien emoji] [peace sign emoji] [winking emoji]_ —and sends it off to Suga and Iwaizumi.

He people watches while he eats, tapping his foot to an unheard beat. His phone vibrates in his pocket and he pulls it back out to check the notification. _Sugasnap replayed your snap_ , his phone screen tells him. Tooru smirks when his phone vibrates again a second later with a new snap from Suga. He unlocks his phone and opens Snapchat.

 **> >Snap from Sugasnap**  
[Photo: Suga’s seated on the bus with his head propped against his hand as he leans on the window. He’s looking into the camera with lowered lashes, smile playing on his lips. He’s got one earbud in his ear and the cord is dangling down along his jawline.]  
_One day your teeth are going to rot from the sweets you eat (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ You know what? I do miss you, your phone is the one loaded with that puzzle game._

Tooru snorts and swipes over to the chat to dump an absurd amount of crying emojis into it and hits send. He immediately starts typing more.

 **> >Chat with Sugasnap**  
< **kingkawa** : [crying emoji] [crying emoji] [crying emoji] [crying emoji] [crying emoji] [crying emoji] [crying emoji] [crying emoji] [crying emoji] [crying emoji] [crying emoji] [crying emoji]  
< **kingkawa:** Mean Suga-chan. I thought we agreed you’re the one that misses me already? Not my phone games (•̀o•́)ง Which, you could just download for yourself instead of hogging mine all the time

> **sugasnap:** Ok, ok, I miss you. Happy now?

< **kingkawa:** ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و You!!!!!! I’ll just have to send you a bunch of selfies so you won’t be sad

> **sugasnap:** It’s not like I’ll forget what you look like. But go ahead [winking emoji] [peace sign emoji]

< **kingkawa:** Every hour, on the hour. Your never ending supply of selfies begins now (ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ (ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ

Tooru’s heart gives a pleasant little jump as he stares down at his phone screen. He wants to take a screenshot to commemorate the message, or at least save it to their chat log, but Suga would see it thanks to Snapchat not knowing how to let a pining man have any shred of dignity. At least Tooru isn’t alone in being the crazy one with funny separation issues; Suga misses him, too. His chest feels a little less tight and he gets up to toss out his empty juice and trash and falls back into step with the crowd.

On the subway Tooru tugs on a lock of hair and wonders how soon would be too soon to make plans to see Suga. He reasons that he should wait at least a full day, otherwise he’ll come across as too transparent and eager. Suga would see right through that. He purses his lips as he considers what they can do together. Then an idea comes to him; he wonders if Suga would want to visit a shrine with him on New Year’s to make their wishes for the year.

After he arrives home and spends time with his family for the evening, he sends a fourth Snapchat to Suga—every hour, on the hour, just like he promised. In this one he's wearing his glasses, hair still slightly damp, and his cheeks flushed from his bath. He even saves it to his Snapchat memories, since it's such a good shot.

A moment later, his phone pings with a notification and Tooru opens it with a triumphant little smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments + Kudos are ♥ | Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://birbsonthecourt.tumblr.com)!


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